Sheep Suit
by happilyeveramber
Summary: Stiles can take getting the hot new kid as a lab partner. It's when that hot new kid turn into a wolf and attacks him that the real problems start. AU with wolves. **ON HIATUS**
1. Chapter 1

**AN- Okay, guys, don't kill me. I ****_know_**** that I'm in the middle of Seven Devils, but I've been lacking inspiration. And then I started writing this. I will be finishing SD, just be patient.**

**So, this is a Siles/Derek high-school AU with wolf!Derek. I am totally in love with fluffy Sterek so expect some of that, though I'll try to include ****_some_**** smut in there.**

**Also, I am absolutely ****_terrible_**** at writing Derek in character, for some reason. So, be warned.**

**Warnings- male/male relationship, unbetaed**

**Disclaimer- I own nothing but this idea and the tears and feels I am currently drowning in.**

* * *

I hate school.

And I know almost every kid on the face of the planet will say that but I really do.

School absolutely sucks.

And I'm not just saying that because I'm currently in a dumpster.

See, it's not that I enjoy taking a bath in trash. No. Not that I'm judging anybody who does, but... Well, ew.

But the only reason I'm in this dumpster currently is because our school's very own pretentious douchebag Jackson Whittemore. He seems to like it when I'm covered in last year's cafeteria lunch. Which, ew, they're probably still serving this year.

Again, I hate school.

And, okay, maybe I shouldn't have said that I thought he was gay and in love with his best friend Danny Mahealani- even though he _totally_ is- with him in hearing distance. But, c'mon. He's using Lydia Martin- aka the goddess I pray to every night- as a beard and she deserves so much more. Namely, me.

Even though I've seen some of the looks Lydia has cast her best friend Allison Argent, so maybe they have a deal going.

Or maybe I just like making everyone in my life gay.

But how cool would it be of everyone was? Like, Jackson and Danny. Lydia and Allison. And I've seen my best friend Scott McCall stare at Isaac Mclahey for a little too long.

But that leaves me. Stiles Stilinski. The lone wolf. The black sheep. The guy who should really stop comparing himself to pathetic outsider animals.

In my little world, there's no one for me to be gay with.

Which, I'm not- okay, maybe I am just a _little _bit- I just like imagining everyone is. It's fun; you should try it.

But again, probably none of them- cough, except for Jackson, cough- are gay. Well, Danny is but he's been out for years. No one really cares.

How did I get talking about this? Oh, yeah. Gay Jackson threw me in the trash. So, the first day of the new school year and I get to come in with old milk and beef and I don't even know what else on my new shirt. Yay.

"Stiles!" I hear and I get distracted climbing out of the tub of trash. So, of course, my gangly limbs get tangled together and I fall straight on my bony ass.

"What?" I snap, looking around. I see Erica Reyes smirking above me and I quickly scramble up to smother her in a hug. Partly because I've missed her and party because I'm covered in trash.

"Ew!" She squeals, backing up. "Gross. Why do you look and smell like you just escaped from a zoo?"

"Um," I stall, trying to think of an excuse. "I fell," I finish lamely.

"Wha- Stiles. No matter how clumsy and awkward you are, you're not _that_ clumsy and awkward. Was it Jackson? Oh, God, I'm gonna kill him." She bares her teeth at me and I step back.

"Whoa, girl. Calm down. I'm fine. And we all know Jackson is too pretty to die," I assure her. Erica has always been one of my best friends. I was worried that she would drop me after she got her makeover and constantly looked like she just stepped out of a porno, but she didn't. If anything, she became even more protective because now nobody would dare say a word.

"What an ass," she mutters, brushing off all the dirt and gross crap from my shirt. "At least your hair isn't long enough that anything can get stuck in it."

"Always thinking positively," I tease her, because, in actuality, she is one of the most negative people I know.

"Shut up," she replies, punching me. I laugh and we go walking towards the school.

We get some stares as we walk in, but it's probably because of Erica. I've gotten used to it. I mean, I would be lying if I said that she hadn't popped up into some of my fantasies over the last few months. Mostly with Lydia and Allison, but come on. They would be super hot together.

Not that I'm interested in Erica. No way. I'm not interested in Allison, either. Scott has already kind of claimed her. It's just that they're the only interesting girls in the school. And the only ones who will be seen with me.

Not that I ever hang out with Lydia. But I hang out with Scott who hangs out with Allison who is best friends with Lydia, so. Yeah, complicated chain of a relationship.

But, anyway, I soon realize that, for once, the idiots around _aren't _staring at my super-hot friend. They're staring behind her. So, of course, I awkwardly spin on my heel to see who is behind us.

Bad move. Because apparently the guy behind us didn't get the memo that I'm the most clumsy person in ever and he keeps walking. Head first. Into me. Great.

"Oh, God!" I cry out. "Sorry. Sorry, man." I scramble to my feet and put a hand down to help him up. Of course, I hadn't planned on him being five hundred pounds of muscle, so as soon as he grabs on, I fall back on my ass. Awesome.

I hear him let out a chuckle above me and he yanks me up with ease.

"Sorry," he mutters and I just nod. Because now that I'm not crashing into him or on the floor behind him, I can see his face. And, Lord Almighty, this is the most beautiful man I have ever seen in my life.

Before, I thought Jackson was pretty. Which he is. The guy is like a walking Abercrombie bag. But this man- Oh, wow. He looks like a Greek God.

He has olive skin that looks like it totally skipped right over the awkward teenage phase. His eyes are a forest green with little specks of gold and brown in them. And his hair is jet black and short. And did I mention the muscles?

How was this man a high school student?

"Um. It's. Uh. Fine. I'm. Uh. Stiles." And apparently I'm only able to speak in one-word sentences now.

He just grins at me. "Well, I have to go," he says in that rough voice. Are my pants tightening or is that just him? "I don't want to be late on my first day." He smiles apologetically at me and then struts down the hall.

"You're new?" I call after him. But he is already walking off and I only get an over-the-shoulder grin in return.

"Damn," I hear and I turn around to see Erica smirking. I completely forgot she was there.

"Yeah," I agree. "Damn."

xXx

Science class. Ugh. I was half-asleep already and the teacher was only introducing himself.

At least I was lucky enough to be one of the few without a lab partner. Which may sound strange but I like working alone. Especially when I didn't have any friends in the class.

"For college, I went to-" The teacher's life story is interrupted by a sudden banging of the door flying open. All heads snap up to see who else but Greek God himself in the doorway. Awesome.

"Ah, Mr. Hale, what a lovely surprise," says the teacher. The way he said it almost sounded like flirting. Then again, who wouldn't flirt with a guy like that?

"Sorry I'm late, sir," Greek God- Mr. Hale?- says. "I kind of got lost." Everyone chuckles, not because that was funny, but because he's attractive.

"Yes, well, considering you're new, we can make an exception for you. But you did miss picking the lab partners who you will be sitting with for the rest of the year..." The man trails off. "Hmm. I'll find you someone." He looks down at his clipboard and I cross my fingers. I don't know if I want him to pick me or not, all I know is I want something. Badly.

"Mr. Stilinski?" The teacher calls out suddenly, surprising me so much that I almost fall out of my chair. And by almost, I mean I do. Hard.

"Um, yeah?" I ask, stumbling to get back on my stool. Idiot, idiot, idiot.

"I see you're alone. Would you mind terribly if Mr. Hale joined you?"

"Uhhh," I answer brilliantly. "Sure?" Of course I wouldn't mind sitting next to the guy I embarrassed myself terribly in front of for the whole year. Why would I mind that?

Nobody looks very impressed by my wording but Greek God still makes his way over.

"Hi," I say, clumsily moving all my stuff over so he has room. He just stares at me.

"Oh, shit, sorry, do you speak another language?" I ask. And then I curse myself to the deepest pits of hell because I had seriously _just_ heard him talk.

His eyes flash with amusement. "Um, no. Sorry, I was just trying to remember your name," he replies. "It's, uh-"

"Stiles Stilinski," I provide eagerly, grinning up at him.

"Right, yeah. So, Stiles Stilinski, would you mind moving over so I can sit?" His lips are in a tight line like he hates socialization- which I totally wouldn't blame him for, considering socialization is what causes most of my daily embarrassments- and his voice his quiet.

"Huh- Oh, yeah! Sorry, man," I stutter, my limbs flying everywhere as I frantically move.

I take in a deep breath and then smile welcomingly at him. "So, welcome to Beacon Hills High."

He just shoots me a tight-lipped smile and then turns and looks as if he's paying excruciating attention to the teacher. Who is now talking about his four cats. Way to stop the gender stereotyping, buddy.

I wonder if he actually is paying attention because he cares or because he doesn't want to talk to me. Probably the second one.

I squint at his binder, trying to find something with his full name. I need to add a first name on so that I can research him tonight. The only way to truly make friends is to Facebook-stalk them.

It has to say his name somewhere on there. I lean over so much that, again, I fall out of my seat. Best day ever.

He looks at me sharply. "You okay?" he mutters as if the whole class isn't staring.

"Uh- yeah. Totally." D? Is that what that said. D Hale? There might have been an 'e' after it but I'm not sure. Ugh. Why couldn't he just be normal and introduce himself?

"I'm Derek. By the way," he adds, flashing me another dazzling grin. I meekly nod in response. What, can he read minds? Is that, like, a pretty people perk?

And how does he go from anti-social to people pleaser in less than a second? One minute he's ignoring me, I blink and he's sending one hundred kilowatts my way? Weirdo.

xXx

Finally. Lunch. After lunch, I kind of just sign out for the day. So, I'm glad it's here.

I quickly run through the cafeteria line, picking anything that looks even a teeny bit appetizing- the curly fries are the only good thing here- and getting out as soon as possible.

I walk over to my usual table, with Scott, Isaac, Erica, her boyfriend Boyd, Allison, and, lately, Jackson, Danny, and Lydia. I can tell this will be an interesting year.

Before I can sit down, I am under attack.

"Ah!" I yell out as arms rope around me. "What the-"

"Senior year, buddy!" Scott McCall- who is actually, literally, a dumbass puppy dog with a stupid uneven jaw- cuts me off, shaking me around and making me drop my milk. Damn it.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm excited, too. But you don't have to terrorize me and my lunch about it." I put my tray down and sit in a chair. He shoots me an apologetic smile- who can stay mad at a face like that?- and sits down, throwing an arm around Allison.

"Hey, Stiles," Allison says warmly, flashing me a soft smile. I wave at her, snatching Scott's drink to make up for my lost one. He pouts at me before getting distracted by Allison's hair. Idiot.

Jackson sits down with his friends but not before smirking at me. I immediately look down at my shirt, checking to make sure I got everything. What a dick.

But it's okay, because as Erica struts over, she pauses momentarily to nonchalantly stick her gum in Jackson's short hair. I let out a quick laugh before covering it up as she winks at me. I love that girl so much.

Just then, I see a kind of familiar face looking hesitantly around. I don't think twice before calling out to him.

"Derek?" I ask loudly, causing him to look in my direction. "Derek! Hey, come sit with us!" I know how it feels to be an outsider. I had been the social pariah before Scott noticed- well, actually I kind of started talking _his_ ear off and from there, a beautiful friendship was born. Anyway, I don't want Derek to feel left out.

He walks uncertainly over, his muscles noticeably tense. I wonder if I'm bothering him. But then, he wouldn't have come over, right?

"Hey," I greet as he arrives. "Everyone, this is Derek. He's new." I immediately get everyone's attention.

"Why, hello," Lydia purrs, raising an eyebrow to him. I shoot her a look as Jackson glares at me like it's my fault. Great.

"Oh, hey, you," Erica says, her red lips curling into a grin. "Remember me?" Like she's easy to forget. Boyd immediately wraps his arm around her, staking his claim. I roll my eyes. Awesome first impression, everyone.

Allison is the only one to actually smile sweetly at him before telling him to sit. Derek looks down at the table for a long moment before I realize the only free chair is next to me.

"Oh, sorry. I guess you're probably sick of me by now," I joke, shrugging. Shit. That sounded bitter not light like I meant it. He smiles tensely before sitting.

"So, Derek, where are you from?" Danny asks, eyeing him like he's a piece of meat. Do I need to teach everyone manners?

"Uh, up north," he answers, picking at his food.

"Oh, here, man," Scott says, pushing his bagged lunch over after Allison not so casually elbowed him. "Take mine. The cafeteria food sucks. No wonder Stiles is malnourished." He winks at me.

"Oh, funny. Sorry, not everybody can big walls of muscle like all of you." I look around at the ridiculous amount of testosterone near me. Seriously. How do these guys do it?

"It's lacrosse, dude," Isaac answers, shrugging. "Speaking of, Derek, you should join. You already got the look." Another teasing look at me. These guys should really be comedians.

"Um, not really my scene, thanks. I'm more of a baseball kind of guy," Derek answers, shrugging as he munches on Scott's food.

"That's a shame. You'd be a good addition. Stiles kind of just keeps the bench warm for us-" Seriously? Is it pick on Stiles in front of the hot new guy day? Because I didn't get the memo. "And the coach is always talking on ears off about recruiting new members."

"You can still come to the games," Lydia chimes in, batting her thick eyelashes. "Allison and I always sit on the bleachers anyway, keeping Stiles company and cheering everyone on." She smiles widely at him, using her cheeriest, flirtiest voice. She would have made a great cheerleader if that stuff wasn't 'totally below her'.

I glare at her. "Why is everyone picking on me today? I don't need _company_. And I play. Sometimes. Who was it again who made the last shot last game?"

"Um. Scott," Lydia looks at me like I'm an idiot. I am an idiot.

"But who told him how?" I wish Lydia could tell that I'm just trying to impress Derek. Or, at least not look like a total fool. I thought girls were good at picking up on that kind of thing.

"I'm pretty sure it was the coach who said that," Isaac cuts in, grinning at me. Of course, Isaac gets it. And of course, he wants to sabotage me.

"Isaac, there's a bug in your food," I dismiss him, sneering at his stupid boyish good looks. He is definitely not as innocent as he seems.

"_Anyway_," Lydia continues, shooting a look at me. "You should totally come. It's lots of fun. And there's a game tomorrow?" She gives him the patented Lydia smile and I know he's caught. Nobody can resist her.

"Sure," he sighs, still looking a bit uncomfortable. I feel for the guy, but I don't know what to do that won't make it worse. I'm kind of bad with that sort of thing.

"So, Derek, anybody catch your eye so far?" Danny asks, his smile friendly. You can always count on Danny to be nice. When he's not busy checking you out in what he thinks is subtly, but really isn't, that is.

Which he's doing to Derek right now.

"Uh, not really. I've only been here for a couple hours, though. I don't think I need to worry about that," Derek answers, briefly looking up and catching my eye. _Woah_. What was that? Should I read into that? Was that a 'you're the only one here not checking me out so I'm not afraid to look at you' look? (Even though, I totally was. I just know how to be careful about it.) Or was that a 'hey, let's fuck repeatedly in different positions' look? They both kind of looked the same.

Or maybe it was just a look.

"Well, if you see anyone you like, I can hook you up. All I have to say is that you know me and any girl you want will have her pants off by the end of the night," Jackson speaks up for the first time in the conversation. I know he is only doing it so that Derek will be off the market so that Lydia will stay away, but still. Derek didn't know that.

"Um… Thanks?" Derek says, his eyebrows slanting down. I laugh at his expression and soon he's looking at me again. And his eyes are _really_ beautiful. No wonder everyone is already heads over feet for him, even though he's said about ten words all day.

Which, I'm not. Heads over feet, that is. Like I said, I'm not gay. I'm just a straight man admiring another straight man's beauty. Nothing wrong with that.

But, wait. _Is_ he straight? Sure, he said thanks when Jackson offered to help him with girls, but still. Who knows?

Maybe he's bisexual. Or pansexual. Or multisexual. It all just confuses me, there are way too many sexualities. Can't we all just be sexual?

"So, Derek, what class do you have next?" I ask him, striving for a friendly smile. I get more of a grimace.

"Uh…Math. Calculus, I think." He finally takes a bite of Scott's sandwich and then makes a face. I don't blame him. I know Ms. McCall is too busy to make Scott lunch and he himself isn't a very good cook. Even making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

"Seriously? Me too," I say, smiling uneasily. I don't know if that's a good thing or not, because he still has a scowl on his face. "I'll show you where it is."

He simply nods and then pointedly looks over to Danny, paying over exaggerated attention to his sports story. I'm noticing he does that a lot. I mean, I get it. He doesn't want to talk to me. Cool. Not many people do. But he doesn't have to be rude about it.

So, I turn and tell Lydia I like her shirt, which turns into a fifteen minute rant, just like I knew it would. And I make sure to not once look over at the grump next to me.

Even though I can feel the heat of his gaze on me.

xXx

Finally. The day is over. It feels like summer never even happened.

Scott is getting a ride with Jackson- when they became chummy enough to give rides, I don't know. Jackson always hated Scott. He's probably manipulating him or some stupid shit- and I decide to just walk home. Nobody could pay me enough to take a ride from Jackson. Plus, I like fresh air, despite popular belief.

As I'm walking, I see a black Camaro driving slowly beside me out of the corner of my eye. I grasp the pepper spray my dad gave me a couple years ago- who knows what possessed him to give a hyperactive thirteen-year old mace; it resulted in many, _many_ trips to the principal's office- that is in my jacket pocket. But, when I go to look at the maybe-predator, I get so surprised, I stumble over my feet.

It's Derek Hale and he's smirking at me and I just _know_ he caught that little graceful move right there.

"Uhhh. Hi?" I say, still walking. I then sigh; it had been so peaceful. He crinkles his eyebrows at me.

"Do you want a ride?" He offers, placing sunglasses in front of those perfect eyes. Which is probably good, because I wouldn't have been able to deny him if I could see them.

"No, I'm fine," I smile at him. He sighs like he doesn't believe me and keeps moving his car beside me.

"Look, I'm sorry that I was kind of rude to you today. I'm not good at…Socialization," he says, his brows pointed down. I have to grin at that.

"I can tell. But don't worry- neither am I." I am aware that I am slowing my pace, yet I do nothing to stop it.

"That's not true," he argues. "You have all of those friends." I laugh at that and he stares at me, confused.

"The only friends I really have are Scott and Erica. Allison hangs out with me because she is going out with Scott. Lydia hangs out with me because Allison is there. Jackson is there because Lydia is there, Danny is there because of Jackson. Boyd hangs out with us because of Erica. Isaac hangs out because of Boyd, Erica, and Scott. I really don't have many friends, trust me." Aware of how pathetic that sounds, I look down at the ground. But I don't speed up.

"Maybe, one day… we could be friends," he stutters, his lips pressed tightly together in a sort-of smile.

"Maybe one day," I agree and he nods sharply. "Bye, Derek."

"Bye, Stiles," he says quietly and then speeds off. I shake my head gently as I keep walking. What a strange guy.

Oh, the irony in that.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN- **

**AHHHHH. It has been almost a ****_month_**** since the first chapter! Holy shit, guys, I am so sorry. I just wanted to finish Seven Devils and then I got busy with school and wow, that is a sucky excuse but sorry.**

**By the way- I don't know if Derek seems a little OOC, but I'm trying to portray him as a teenager and I like to think he wouldn't be ****_quite_**** as broody and mean. Plus, Laura is still alive.**

**Disclaimer- All I own is a new wicked awesome Doctor Who poster and some really good tea.**

* * *

_I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I'm not-_

God dammit.

Derek is looking at me again, interrupting my inner mantra that seems to be on replay these days.

His lips twitch to see me staring so unwaveringly at my paper, like he thinks I'm actually working or something. Ha. Fat chance. I never do any work in this class, especially not with him freaking staring at me like that. Do I have something on my face? Is he fantasizing about _fucking _my face? Who knows.

I sure as hell don't and I'm getting a little annoyed. Derek Hale is the most bipolar, constantly PMS-ing person I know. One second, he's grinning at me or staring at me or even saying he hopes we can be friends. And then I blink and he has a glare or a scowl or, if I'm lucky, both. It drives me crazy.

And it's not like I only see him in class- no. Apparently, my group has adopted him or something, because he is _always around_. In the cafeteria. At the game. Out at the store. Scott was even thinking of inviting him to his house Friday night- which, might I add, has always been mine and Scott's night. Just us, some violent video games, and some popcorn. And now a broody teenager, apparently.

Sure, I saw why everyone wanted Derek around. Oh, wait. No, I didn't. The only thing he had going for him was that he was good-looking. Take away his looks and he is just a bipolar, grumpy anti-social ass.

But, alas, he was good-looking, so he had captured the attention of just about everybody. Including me. And Lydia, unfortunately.

It's not that I really thought me and Lydia would ever be something. I don't know if I even love her anymore. I just like the idea of loving her; I had been doing it for so long. She was my fallback, my safety crush. As long as I remind myself that I'm in love with Lydia, then I won't start to question my sexuality. Because why would a gay guy be in love with a fierce redhead _female_?

Either way, I wasn't going to pull a Disney princess. Just because this guy was attractive, I wasn't going to look at him and fall in love- cough, cough, like_ some_ people (see everyone else in this whole freaking school) has. He's boring and plain and seems like a bit of an asshole. No personality whatsoever. Who would want to date someone like that?

I peek up for one moment and see Derek staring at me again. Actually, he's kind of scowling at me. And he doesn't even look embarrassed by being caught. Another one of those beautiful person benefits, I guess.

"Is there something on my face?" I finally snap at him and his face breaks out into a small grin, though his frown lines deepen.

"No," he says simply, offering no more of an explanation. My eyes narrow and I huff, turning around to pay exuberant attention to the boring teacher. He lets out a low chuckle and I hold back a snarl. Jackass.

The class period seems to drone on and on. I finally let out a sigh of relief when the bell rings, signaling lunch. Lunch is my haven, my safe place. Where I can take my breath off autopilot and actually think and talk. Not that I do much thinking. What can I say? Silence makes me uncomfortable. So, I always just kind of dive right in.

I run to my locker as fast as possible and grab my afternoon books and lunch money.

It's pizza day. Which is probably the only silver lining of today- the day where I left my essay in the printer, annoyed two teachers, spilled orange juice all over my textbook, and got stared at like a freak.

I quickly grab my pizza and a milk carton and shove some money down the cashier's throat. She stares at me in amusement and takes about ten minutes to make sure I gave her the right amount. All the authoritative figures at this school are spiteful and bitter.

I finally get into the cafeteria and scramble to my table, but I was too late. I have to sit next to Derek. Again.

Which, hey, wouldn't be a problem. It should actually be the opposite of a problem. But it kinda is one considering he spends the whole time memorizing my face but ignoring me every time I try to talk to him.

Maybe today he'll be normal. Maybe today he will actually answer me when I greet him. I take in a deep breath and sit down next to him.

"Hey, Derek," I say, smiling slightly at him. It isn't really like I needed to get his attention, seeing as he has been watching me since I walked into the room. Which, by the way, is really starting to creep me out.

He grunts back something that might've been a hello and then turns to someone else. But not before he not so subtly sniffs me. Oh, yes, that's right, _sniffs _me. Apparently, that's his new thing. He is really taking this whole stalker thing to a new level. I'm going to have to ask my dad if I can borrow his gun.

"So, Derek, are you coming to the game tonight?" Scott asks, struggling to open a packet of fruit snacks.

"I don't know," the moody teenager answers, shrugging. "Isn't it supposed to be cold?"

"Dude, you have to come out no matter the weather! Support the team. School spirit, rah rah, and all that," Scott grins at him, his snack finally opening and flying everywhere.

Derek turns to me. "Are you going?" He asks- and wow, his voice still makes it sound like he is grumbling.

"Uh, yeah. I kind of have to; I'm on the team." I say it in my _duh_ voice, which I should probably tone down for people who aren't close enough to me to ignore my sarcasm.

His cheeks color and he turns back to Jackson, suddenly listening intently to the spoiled brat as he talks about crappy valet.

I roll my eyes, turn to Lydia, try to draw her into a conversation, fail miserably, and decide to just eat my food.

High school freaking sucks.

xXx

When the school day is finally over, I am so happy. Today has been exhausting. Of course, I now am obligated to go and freeze my ass off on a frozen field doing absolutely _nothing_. These sure are the golden years.

I get to the locker room, throw my stuff on, lend Scott an extra shirt- "I want to smell nice for Allison and mine smells like sweat and dirt." "Allison can't smell you from the bleachers and oh, shit, don't give me those puppy eyes."- and run out onto the field.

I had told my dad not to come to this one, because he needed rest and it wasn't like he was going to miss me doing anything amazing. So, I'm not surprised when I don't see his face in the stands. However, I immediately spot Derek and the girls. Allison has a sign with Scott's name on it and Lydia has one with Jackson's. Derek simply just stands there with his hands in his pockets.

I catch his eye and offer him a smile. He replies with a small grin before Lydia tugs on his arm to tell him something.

"Balinski!" Coach yells out, still getting my name wrong even though I've been on this team for two years. "Stop checking out out of your league girls and get your ass over here."

I join the small huddle that has formed and listen to the plan, even though I know I won't be playing. And I'm fine with that. Really. Less bruises for me, right?

The play starts and I sit down on the cold bench, watching intently and making sure to cheer Scott on. I don't know what has been happening with him lately, but he has really stepped up his game. Which is probably why he is suddenly Mr. Popular.

I glance behind me to see the girls up on their feet, screaming their heads off. I grin at them and turn to look at the lump next to them. Derek looks as grumpy as usual, but the tiniest bit interested, too.

Suddenly, his gaze turns to me. His eyes- a beautiful mix of green and gold that I have fondly named 'asshole'- lock on to me and I find it impossible to turn away. I shoot him a small grin and he tries to return it just as I hear my name.

I turn my attention back to the game and see Greenburg- what an idiot- being dragged off the field, limping. Coach is staring at me and I have a terrible feeling that I know what is about to happen.

"Uh, yes, Coach?" I ask quietly.

"Get in the game, Balinski!" He shouts at me. I gape unattractively at him for a minute before stumbling up and onto the field. Scott pats me on the back as soon as I get over there.

As soon as the game started again, any confidence I had disappeared. I fall on my ass more times than I can count and make a total fool out of myself. I'm sure the coach is a second away from pulling me back out.

I look up towards the stand again and my breath catches. There, standing next to the over-excited teenage girls, is Derek, holding a sign that says my name. Sure, his sign is a ripped out piece of notebook paper with my name scribbled on in pencil. But, still.

I can't help the smile that takes up my whole face. He doesn't exactly look thrilled but he doesn't look miserable either. He gives me another one of those tiny smiles.

My heart thumps and I quickly turn around and face the team again. Coach eyes me critically as I cross over to where everyone is. I listen to the plan and nod along.

_Okay, Stiles. You can do this. You don't want to disappoint the team. Or the people in the bleachers. Or one person in the bleachers specifically…_

I straighten up and take a deep breath. I can do this.

The game starts up again rapidly and intensely, everyone focused on scoring those last few points they can before the game is over.

And, magically, I'm not tripping anymore. Actually, I might even be playing _well_. I block who I'm supposed to block and even make a goal. It's like that little sign changed everything.

I hear Allison and Lydia scream my name when I make the last goal and I beam. I look up to them and see them jumping. My eyes immediately move to the right of them and I see Derek watching me with amusement as I jump around the field.

Scott tackles me, yelling in my ear. Instead of shoving him off, I just grin, too happy.

So maybe pizza wasn't the only good part of this day.

xXx

I'm in front of the school, waiting for my dad to come pick me up with my Jeep- which is _finally_ out of the shop- when I see Derek next.

He is getting in his car, one of the last to leave after the game. I see him and don't think twice about yelling, "Derek!"

He looks at me like a startled puppy and I grin. I wave at him, but he just keeps staring at me with that wide-eyed look. Seriously, what is up with this guy and his mood swings?

"Um, hi," I say, feeling a bit unsure for the first time. I thought we were cool now that he had acted all nice-ish to me and gifted me with a rare smile.

He says nothing, simply raising his hand slightly, his mouth twisted into a grimace. He turns around and goes to get into his car when I feel some kind of feeling flash up in me. And, like the idiot I was, I open my mouth.

"Okay, what the hell is wrong with you?" I shout out, making Derek freeze. "One second, you're smiling at me or making a sign of my name and the next you're back to being all broody and scowly and shit. I don't know if you're bipolar, but if you aren't, it isn't cute. And I thought we were friends-ish. Or even acquaintances, I'm good with that. But friends and acquaintances don't do that to each other. Okay? So, it'd be really cool if you'd maybe stop."

Derek looks pained as he turns around, like he is holding something back. He takes in a deep breath and his hands are clenched together so tight that his knuckles are white.

"Stiles," he starts and I quickly start talking again, because if I'm going to lose this maybe friendship-ish, then I want to make sure I get everything out first.

"No, you know what, maybe I do understand, kind of. You're better with actions that words, right? You're all good with doing something as 80's movie as what just happened out there, but once I start talking, it all goes down the toilet. But, God, you could make an _effort_. Ever since you moved here, I have tried so hard to be your friend. I invited you to sit with me, I let you be my lab partner, I introduced you to everybody, _I didn't even fucking comment when you very creepily stared at me every day_. I have been trying. What's your excuse?"

Derek looks like he is about to throw up and he clutches his car tightly. His eyes close momentarily and when he opens them, I see them flash bright blue. Which is pretty insane, so I chalk it up to the adrenaline and nerves in the air.

"Stiles," he repeats, though it sounds different now, like a warning. I ignore it.

"I hate this, you know. I hate fighting and yelling and all that. I _hate _it. Because someone can die at any moment. And for the last thing you say to someone to be some mean screams out of a fit of rage is terrible." I am briefly thrown into a memory of my mother and I feel bile in my throat and my heart speed up but I swallow it back. "So, if you could just tell me that you hate me and don't want to try the whole friends thing, _fine_. Just don't watch me try desperately and not give me any sort of feedback. I can't take-"

"_Stiles_," Derek says again, but it is way different this time. Different because his voice is harsher now and more of a growl than anything. Different because he has seemed to stop holding himself back and is in an offensive position.

Different because he now has fangs and neon blue eyes and sharp fingernails.

"Ho-holy shit," I stutter, falling to the ground. What the actual fuck is going on? I don't even have a sarcastic comment to defend myself with.

"Stiles," he growls again- God, is that the only thing he can say- and he really shouldn't be saying my name right now. He should be explaining why he has fucking fur sprouting from him.

"Der- Oh, my God. What the fu-"

But my words get cut off as Derek launches himself at me.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN-**

**Hey guys! I am so glad that so many of you like this story so far. I really don't know what I'm doing with it, I have two muses- a hyperactive teenager and a brooding Sourwolf and sometimes they sneak off to make out so I don't know what to write.**

**This chapter is dedicated to Don'tBreakMyHeartAgain because your review made me smile and I don't want another one lost to drowning in their own tears.**

**Disclaimer- I own nothing but the inability to come up with any more witty disclaimers.**

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"Ow," is all I can think to say as teeth sink into my shoulder. "Ow."

I'm not saying I have ever fantasized about Derek on top of me, but if I had, this would not be the way I wanted it.

Derek snarls at me, looming over my face. I quickly shut up.

But I don't stop trying to fight back. Because even if I know I couldn't take a human Derek, let alone a whatever-he-is-right-now Derek, I need to at least try.

So I rapidly kick my feet and punch at the creature on top of me. He just growls at me, pinning me down. I don't know what is happening, but I swear to God, if I die a virgin I will be _pissed_.

"Derek," I plead, thinking of all the times my big mouth have gotten me out of- and cough cough, into- bad situations. "Derek, please. How about you get off of me and I'll forget about this whole thing, not tell my Sherriff father and we ignore each other for the rest of existence? Sound good?" But Derek is too far gone to listen to me and he just makes some very mean-sounding sounds.

I look around frantically and quickly pick up the stick next to me. I throw it as far as I can and yell, "Fetch!" which sounded like a way better plan in my head. As it is, Derek just stares at me before getting _very_ close.

I feel him run his nose along my jaw, my neck, and down to my collarbone. He is inhaling deeply and- wow. I refuse to get turned on by this.

"Hey, uh, Derek. Um, mind telling me what the hell is going on?" I ask weakly, feeling his furry nose bury into me. I take in a deep breath and am actually starting to enjoy the feeling when he bites down on my neck again. But, this time, _hard_.

"Ow! Fuck, Derek, ow! Oh, God, what the fuck is going on- _ow_. I'm bleeding. Shit, I'm bleeding, what am I going to tell my Dad? Oh, God, my Dad! My Dad who is supposed to be picking me up soon. Oh, fuck me. Ow, Derek, seriously _what_ is going on?!"

Derek withdraws his teeth and his teeth and fingernails and fur are starting to retract back into his skin, which looks really weird. His eyes are still that electric blue color, though.

"Stiles," Human Derek says simply, his face blank. I blink at him a couple times.

"Okay, what the fuck is going on?" I ask, getting straight to the point. I am surprised I am standing up right now because _what just happened_.

"Call your father," Derek says and my eyes boggle.

"Okay, mister, you do _not_ get to command me. You just turned into…_something_ and fucking attacked me! The only reason I'd be calling my father would be to tell him to come arrest you."

Derek runs a hand over his face, sighing. "Stiles," he groans. "Please, just call your father and tell him you're getting a ride home from a friend. Just give me some time to explain."

I stare at him and I fully intend on yelling at him until he breaks down in tears, because who does he think he is? But as I am glaring, my hand snakes its way into my pocket and pulls out my phone and dials my dad like the traitor it is.

"Hey, uh, Dad?" I greet, shaking my head at the lump of muscle in front of me.

"Oh, Stiles! God, I am so sorry, I will be right there. I took advantage of that rest and slept in and then I had to get your Jeep and now I'm in traffic." It's a relief to hear my Dad's voice, especially after whatever just happened. I smile reflexively before remembering that I'm mad.

"No, Dad, that's why I'm calling. It's fine. I'm getting a ride from a friend. You can go back home and start dinner. Get the turkey burgers out from the freezer and put them in a pan on the stove. Then, heat up the frozen veggie mix that I got for us. Actually, you know what, just watch the game. I can do dinner myself."

"I can heat up some burgers, Stiles," Dad grumbles into my ear, but he sounds relieved.

"Just wait for me, okay? I'll be there soon. Love you." I hang up the phone and turn to glare at Derek. Who really has some explaining to do, because I just got attacked by him and then lied for him. Oh, and _he turned into some kind of a fucking wolf_!

"So," I prompt, shooting him a look. Derek obviously doesn't catch on.

"So," he repeats in a much grumpier tone. His voice and face are impassive, which is strange because this is definitely not the kind of thing you're impassive about.

"So. You just took a chunk out of my shoulder while having fur sprout from your face. Then, had me lie for you. To my Dad. My Sherriff Dad who could arrest you. You've got some explaining to do, buddy."

Derek stares at me for a while before taking a deep breath. "I… I don't know how to explain," he says carefully.

"How about starting with what the hell just happened?"

"I am sorry about that. I thought I had it…under control. I've had seventeen years to master it. That was… I don't know. I usually don't let myself get worked up over stupid stuff like that. You just… get under my skin. And I couldn't control myself." Derek looks like he is going to be sick and I feel the strange need to comfort him. Which I really shouldn't seeing as he had his teeth in me about ten minutes ago.

"You lost control of what?" I ask cautiously.

Derek closes his eyes tightly before opening one to peek at me. "My wolf side?" He says like a question, like he is afraid of a blow, like I'm questioning his sanity. Which, okay, I am.

"Your…what? Your _wolf side_? What the holy hell is that?" My hand subtlety slides into my back pocket to grasp my phone, just in case I need to call for help. Why were the attractive ones always crazy?

"The side of me that is a werewolf," he enunciates slowly and clearly, so I know I didn't hear him wrong.

I burst out laughing. "_What_? Oh, my God, you really had me going for a second. What was that, an animal that attacked me? Was this some kind of prank? Is Scott hiding in those bushes? For a prank, that really fucking hurt, though." I grin at Derek and he just stares back, face hard.

"Derek? This is a prank, right?" He doesn't move. "Derek?" He swallows loudly. I take in a deep breath, already feeling my heart speed up and it get harder to breathe. "Derek, this isn't funny, please say it's a joke." He still stays silent.

"Oh, God. Oh, holy fucking God. A wolf? A _werewolf_?" He stays still, letting me panic. "Oh, my God. You're a wolf! You're a fucking wolf! This is… this is insane. A wolf! Ha!" I sound hysterical, but I can't help it. Derek still hasn't moved and he staring at me with wide eyes.

"A wolf? Really? A wolf. What are you, the fucking wolfman? This cannot be real. I'm dreaming. I'm- I'm dreaming." I let out a sigh of relief as I realize the truth. Of course. Of course, I'm dreaming. This is just another one of my Derek fantasies. This time he's a werewolf who will save me from danger or some romantic shit. I really need a better imagination, though, seeing as he has only tried to kill me. I suck a romance.

I smile sleepily at Derek. "I'm dreaming. I am going to go home, so whatever villain can go and get me, so that you can come rescue me, we can make out a little, and this dream can be over." Phew.

Derek stares at me in confusion. "What?" He asks and it's a relief to know he hasn't gone mute in the last couple minutes.

"Sorry, I'm breaking the third wall- or is it fourth wall? That always confused me- but I need to get the show on the road. You know, actually, we could just make out now and call it a night?" I suggest, climbing into the passenger seat of his Camaro. He looks at me like I belong in a mental ward, which is a bit ironic, considering he just told me he was a werewolf.

"Stiles. First of all, there will be no making out whatsoever. Secondly, this isn't a dream. Thirdly, we need to get that shoulder checked out. Unfortunately, I don't know what I just did to you- if I actually bit you and turned you or if I just hurt you- and I can't bring you in to a hospital. You're gonna have to come home with me." He starts the car, sighing deeply. I hear him mutter something along the lines of 'of all people…' under his breath, but I let it go.

"Oh," I smile at him, suddenly feeling really tired. Like I took too much Adderall and I'm crashing. My shoulder is starting to feel numb and I don't know if that is good or not. "So, we're going to be roleplaying in this one? Doctor Derek?"

Derek looks over at me, with an expression I've never seen before. "Is this the shock talking?"

"Shouldn't you know, Wolfy? Do you always snack on humans or is this like a really crappy pick-up line? Oh, God, are we, like, mated now?" I laugh briefly at the image of being mated with Derek, spending my life with him, living a domestic life.

He looks at me with disgust and concern. "Look, I don't know, okay? I'm not very experienced with this stuff. Just go to sleep until we get there, okay?"

"I told my Dad I would be right home," I mutter weakly. "Dinner." Unfortunately, I suck at fighting off sleep and I quickly succumb to the numbness.

Only to be woken up by Derek approximately two minutes later.

"Wait," the maybe-werewolf yelps. "I don't know if you should be sleeping. Couldn't you slip into a coma?"

Now it is my turn to stare at him like he's an idiot. "I got bit in my shoulder, not hit in the head. And I thought I was bad with that stuff." But I stay awake anyway, because I want to see how to get to his house.

"Wait a second," I backtrack, processing his grumbles. "Did you say you might've bitten and _turned _ me? As in turned me into…you?"

"I don't know," Derek snaps, as if it hurts him to admit he is wrong. "Let's just bring you to Laura. She'll know." He said the last part determinedly, like he knew for a fact that this Laura would know, that she _had to_ know. Which she kind of did. Because if she didn't, we were screwed.

"We're here," Derek says suddenly and I raise an eyebrow. We were in the middle of nowhere, at that old crappy house that looked like if you touched it, it would fall apart.

"You live _here_?" I ask incredulously, because if you are going to move somewhere new, wouldn't you move into a nice new house?

"It's my family house. I used to live here. I moved away when I was thirteen." His eyes glaze over for a moment and he gets a sad expression on his face and I know there's more to the story. I don't push it though, partly because I don't want to overstep my boundaries, and partly because my shoulder really fucking hurts.

"Oh. Well, would you mind letting me in so I don't bleed all over your precious car?" I think I liked him better when he was bipolar. At least then he was nice half the time. Now he was just a big grumpy wolf. A Sourwolf.

"Excuse me?" He raises an eyebrow and I realize I said that last part out loud. I simply shrug and rush to his house, hiding my flaming cheeks.

"Who's Laura?" I ask him and his head snaps towards me.

"How do you even know about Laura?" He asks suspiciously and I roll my eyes.

"Um, because you just said she would know what to do? Speaking of, is this going to take long, because I told my dad I would be home soon."

"Uh, why don't you just call him again and tell him you're staying over Scott's or something," Derek replies distractedly as he roots in his pocket for his keys.

"I can't," I say simply. He looks at me in confusion and I sigh. "Then, he'll have no one to make dinner for him. I can't let the poor guy starve." Derek stares at me for a couple seconds too long to be comfortable until he finally finds his keys.

"Uh," he clears his throat, tearing his green gaze away from me. He unlocks the door and calls for Laura, who he still hasn't told me who she was.

But as soon as she appears, I know. She has to be his sister. She's gorgeous, of course. Just like him. She actually looks _just_ like him, except with a grin instead of his usual scowl.

"Well, well, well," she says, mischief clear in her throat. "First month here and you're already bringing boys home?" Derek stiffens and she laughs melodically. Then, she spots my shoulder. "Ow," she winces. "Got a little rough with the foreplay?"

Derek growls then. "No. I, uh, lost control." He looks down then, avoiding her eyes. "I bit him. Stiles. That's his name. I just wanted you to check it out."

The woman- Laura- clucks her tongue, but takes me by the arm, leading me into the kitchen. "We'll have a talk later," she says to Derek, her voice heavy with warning and promise.

"So, Derek wolfed out on you, huh?" She says to me, flicking a light on. "I hope you don't plan on telling anyone. Then, we'd have to kill you." Her face is hard and serious and I swallow loudly.

"Laura!" Derek yelps, shutting his eyes tightly.

"Relax," she laughs again, nudging him. "He knows I'm joking. Right, cutie? You look like you can take a joke."

"Oh, that's an understatement," Derek growls and I shoot him a confused look to which he colors and turns away. I make a mental note to ask him about that later.

"I won't tell," I say, surprised my voice doesn't shake at all. Actually, not that surprised. I'm used to strong personalities. My mother had one and I've been in love with Lydia for a while. If I can take her, I think I can take anybody. "If you guys answer all my questions, that is."

Laura grins at me, surprised by my boldness. That makes two of us.

"Sure, sure, sweetie. Let me just take a look at this. What happened, Derek? Why did you lose control?"

Derek shifts uncomfortably. "Um. I don't know." Except he does know. And so do I. And it was my fault. Oh, stupid, stupid, stupid. If I hadn't been so sensitive and cornered him, I would be at home right now, enjoying some TV. Oh, God, and the SciFi network was having a movie marathon tonight. Dad better record it on the DVR or I would-

"So, why didn't you just bring him to the hospital?' Laura questions, inspecting my wound. She washes it quickly, and looks up, expecting an answer.

"Well, I didn't know if I had, um, _turned _him," Derek coughs awkwardly. "Plus, I knew he would have questions and I thought you would be the best one to explain."

"I'm honored," she teases, rolling her eyes. "But you didn't turn him. You can't turn him unless you want to, unless you're purposely doing it. Let me clean it up and get it bandaged and then we'll talk." She rushes off to get her supplies, leaving me and Derek alone.

"I'm sorry," I mumble when the silence threatens to suffocate me. His head snaps up, eyebrows crinkled. "I made you lose control. I get under everybody's skin. I'm sure if everybody was a wolf, I would be dead by now." I grin at him, but he doesn't look amused. He looks really upset, actually.

"What do you mean, you'd be dead?" He asks lowly, dark gaze boring into me. I swallow heavily.

"Nothing. Just that I annoy everyone. You can, like, avoid me from now on, if you want," I stumble over my words, leaving awkward pauses where they shouldn't be. "I wouldn't want to make you… _you know_ again."

"You don't annoy me," Derek says and I blink. Um, what?

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I do." His face tightens.

"No. You don't." Frustrations flares up in me.

"Then why did I make you wolf out? Huh? And how come you're always shooting glares my way? Either that or those stupid fucking grins, which might even be worse, because I'm used to the glares, but those _stupid_ smiles confuse me to no end." And there it is. Apparently, I'm emotionally unstable, because that is the second time today I have lost control and snapped at Derek. I sigh and go to apologize, but Derek beats me to it.

"You don't annoy me," he repeats. "You… frustrate me. I can never tell what you're thinking. Which is really strange, because you have one of the most expressive faces I have ever seen in my life. And your smells are a mess. And your heart. It is always beating so fast, I just can't get a read on you. You always smell like too much Adderall and caffeine- which probably isn't a good combo, by the way- nervousness, and arousal. I don't know what to think." I don't mention the fact that I probably only smell like arousal around _him_, because I'm too freaked out that he can apparently smell my emotions. Awesome.

"You can smell…arousal?" Is the thing that comes out of my mouth, which is so stupid, because there are so many other things I could have said.

"Yeah," he replies, staring at me. I swallow. He stares. I lick my lips. He stares. I clear my throat. He stares.

"Okay, here we go," Laura says as she prances into the room and we both look up guiltily, which is strange because we weren't doing anything to be guilty for. Except that we've gotten close throughout the course of this conversation. Really close. Derek takes a step back, silent.

Laura sprays some sort of medicine on my wound and I hiss, backing up. "Agh!" She rolls her eyes and quickly applies a bandage.

"Now, what are your questions?" She asks, pulling out three Cokes from the fridge behind her. I panic for a second and my eyes dart over to Derek, only to find he is already staring at me.

"Um, actually, I gotta get home. To my Dad. To make him dinner. Otherwise, he'll consume all the empty calories he can find.I'm gonna call Scott to pick me up." I try for a smile and Laura returns it. I immediately decide that 1. I like her better and 2. Derek really needs to smile more.

"Okay," she replies. "Some other time. Hopefully I'll see you soon?" She smiles again and she is like a beautiful angel. What else can I do but nod dumbly?

"Are you sure you don't need a ride?" She asks and I shake my head. I don't think I could take any more awkward.

"Bye," I say to her and she grins before walking into the living room with her drink. I turn to Derek again, his forest green eyes sad for some reason. "Um, bye Derek. I'll see you tomorrow?" He simply nods before following his sister.

I sigh before calling Scott quickly. I give him the SOS sign that he always sends me when he wants me to cover for him and Allison's dates. He says he'll be here soon.

And when he said soon, he really meant it. Within five minutes, he pulls up in the driveway in his mother's car.

"So, why are you at Derek's house again?" He asks, shooting me a confused puppy dog look.

"School project," I mumble and he accepts it and starts to pull away, already talking about Allison.

"Oh, shit," I mutter when I realize I left my jacket inside. "I'll be right back." I rush into the house to get it.

As soon as I get in the hallway, I snatch it up and go to leave. But I hear voices and me, being my curious self, stops to listen.

"So, that's him, huh?" That's Laura and she sounds like she is teasing Derek.

"What's that supposed to mean?" A grumbly voice asks. "No, you know what, I don't want to know. I'm going to bed." I hear footsteps and I quickly rush out the door, closing it quietly.

I hear more voices and my name and I sigh again, walking dejectedly back to Scott's car.

God dammit.

I really wish I had werewolf hearing.

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**One more note- In this chapter, Stiles begins to have a panic attack, but doesn't follow through. How I wrote him having it- having his heart speed up and it getting harder for him to breathe- is how I feel when I get attacks. I have not researched it to see if it differs for other people. Please don't get mad! **

**Also, please review! (Derek is giving you his puppy dog face.)**

****I have fixed the errors in this chapter. Thank you for notifying me in your guys' reviews!****


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer-All I have class tomorrow at 7 am, but you can have that if you like.**

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In the morning it hits me.

Which sucks, because I was doing so well. I hadn't freaked out, I hadn't started sobbing, I had barely blinked. But when I woke up to a throbbing pain in my shoulder and an even bigger headache, I suddenly was hit with the fact that a werewolf tried to kill me last night. A werewolf. Tried. To. Kill. Me.

And with that, I decide I'm not going to school today. When my dad comes in and sees my even paler than usual face, he doesn't argue.

As I lay there, I worry about Derek. Which is weird, because I'm the one who was attacked by a werewolf. But, then again, he had just told me his deepest, darkest secret and the next day I just didn't show up. The poor guy probably thought I was afraid of him- or worse, telling someone.

I tell myself not to worry about him and to get some rest, I argue with myself, I decide I'm crazy for talking to myself, I defend myself, and finally I decide to take a nap.

When I wake up, I have a visitor.

Of fucking course.

"Ah," I deadpan, staring at the figure leaning on my desk. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question," Derek raises a single eyebrow- how the hell does he do that? I always have to hold one down with my finger and end up looking like an idiot.

"Uh, I kind of live here." He rolls his eyes at me and leans down to pick up the worn book on my desk. He shoots me a questioning look and I see it's a book on lycanthropy. I feel my cheeks heat up immediately.

"I-I had that! I didn't just go out and buy it, I swear. I've always been interested in that kind of stuff." He scoffs but drops it. "So, why are you here?" I quickly try and steer the conversation back.

"To find out why you're here," he says simply, shrugging. He looks out of place in my light blue bedroom, with his bulky leather jacket and intense look.

"Why I'm in my own house?" He nods. "Well, I was kind of _attacked by a fucking werewolf_ last night. I think I'm entitled to one day off. Trauma or whatever, y'know? I should get a mental health vacation." Derek rolls his eyes again and walks over to my dresser, playing with the photographs on there.

"Excuse you, mister, I don't think we've known each other long enough for you to be poking around in my stuff," I quip at him, sniffing disdainfully. I hear a huff of breath, but he keeps pawing through my stuff.

"I still don't see why you're here, either. Just to check up on me? Would you do the same for Scott or Isaac? Or do you feel guilty for going all Jacob Black on me last night?" That gets his attention.

"Jacob Black?"

I roll my eyes. "Yes, a reference to pop culture. Why do I have this feeling you're not very up to date on that stuff?"

"Probably because I'm not." He finally puts my stuff back and walks over to me. "So, you're okay?"

His sudden change of tone throws me for a second. His cynical, grumbly voice quickly takes a soft turn and the caterpillars on his face that he fondly calls his eyebrows are tilted down in a concerned way. Either he is a _really_ good actor or he is actually worried about me.

"I'm-I'm fine. Totally fine. And, don't worry, I'm not planning on telling anyone. You can go and chew on a squirrel or whatever." My voice is unsteady and I clear it, trying to regain control. Stupid dumbass dog. As soon as I think I've figured him out, he does something completely out of character. It's like he is trying to confuse me.

"Actually…" He groans and lets out a deep breath before continuing. "Laura wants me to invite you over for dinner. Tonight. She wants to make sure I don't scare you off or something and that you're properly informed." He peeks up at me and I fight off a chuckle at his expression.

"Don't act like one afternoon with me will cause you pain." I make a face at him and he huffs. "I don't know, though. I was late coming home last night and my dad had to order a pizza. And he picked the _meat-lovers_. Might as well be called life-haters. I swear, without me, he'd be dead by the end of the week." I stop to think for a second. "But I guess I could make him something and put it in the fridge. I can probably make it." He groans again and I roll my eyes.

"Whatever," he grumbles and goes to slip back out the window. Out the window. Excuse me…what?

"Wait a second there, pal. What are you doing?"

Derek looks at me, confused. "Um, leaving?" I sigh in exasperation of his idiocy and his eyebrows crinkle together.

"Why are you leaving through the _window_? And not the front door like a normal person?" I don't want to ruin his wolfy mojo or whatever, but I'm not sure if I like the idea of him just coming back and forth without my consent. "Oh, hey, don't I have to, like, invite you in or something?"

Derek glares at me and mutters, "That's vampires, dumbass," before gliding out.

"Hey! You never answered me. Derek, you never- you never answered me." He doesn't even look back as he struts across my front lawn and into the shadows.

This guy will be the death of me, I swear.

I hobble downstairs and go to make myself something to eat. As I'm laying slices of cheese on bread though, my door rings. I sigh deeply but go to answer it.

I swing open the door, ready to either yell at Derek, greet my father or tell some salesman to fuck off. But the people standing out there strike me speechless.

"Erica, Allison … Lydia?" What is going on? I've never really been friends with any of them other than Erica. Unless they are going to fulfill my previously mentioned fantasies, I have no idea why they are here.

"Stiles!" Erica grins and Lydia launches herself into my arms. Um… what? I feel myself stiffen- pun totally not intended- and I clear my throat.

"Hey, Stiles," Allison greets, waving and smiling. I wave back at her, a confused expression permanently etched on my face.

"Um, hey. Why are you guys all here?" I step aside to let them in.

"Because you weren't in school today. We were worried," Erica collapses onto my couch, her mini skirt inching its way up her thigh. Like a good friend, I look away.

"_And_ Scott told us that you were at Derek's last night," Lydia trills from where she is perched on my coffee table. I groan loudly.

"Why would he tell you that? I told him I was there for a school project. Not exactly gossip-worthy."

"Except there haven't been any school projects yet. It's still the first month of school. C'mon, spill," Allison speaks up, smiling eagerly.

"You _love_ him," Lydia teases and when exactly have we gotten to a point in our nonexistent relationship where she could tease me? Oh, who am I kidding, Lydia teases everyone.

"No, I don't," I say forcefully, retrieving my sandwich from the counter.

"But, you have a huge man crush on him, right?" Erica grins widely at me, wiggling her eyebrows.

I sigh deeply. "_Guys_. I just met him. I am heterosexual, probably, maybe. He is- an admittedly very attractive but also- heterosexual man. At the most, we're… acquaintances."

They all groan. "Acquaintances? Not even friends?" Lydia glares at me.

"Not even friends," I confirm. "I don't think Derek is even capable of having friends, okay? He's broody and moody and aggressive and asocial. Not exactly my dream guy. And, _oh my God_, I am not having girl talk with you guys."

Laughter fills the room- at my expense, of course. "Sorry, for wanting a little action in our lives," Erica says, making a face at me.

"If you only knew the action I got last night," I mutter, thinking of our not-very-friendly neighborhood werewolf.

"What?" They all screech, widening their eyes. I immediately realize what I just said and how they are most assuredly taking it.

"No! No, not like _that_. Jesus, you guys are like vultures."

"That doesn't even make sense," Allison points out helpfully, pulling out her phone to text Scott.

"You guys need to get out! Out, out, out," I cry, glaring at all of them.

"_Fine_," Lydia says dejectedly. There's an unspoken '_I know you're hiding something and I _will_ get it out of you_,' in her voice. Then again, there's always that kind of mood near Lydia. "Oh, but we're all going to the movies tonight. Want to come?"

I still am unsure how exactly we got to this point where Actual Goddess Lydia Martin is asking me to go to the movies with her- and a whole bunch of our friends, but whatever- but I know I am fine with staying here. "Uh, sorry, I have plans tonight," I answer. Oh, boo-hoo, I won't get to sit in a dark theater, surrounded by all my friends making out. How will I survive?

"With your dad?" Allison asks.

"Nah, with Derek and his sister," I say, not thinking. _Oh, God_.

"What?!" Lydia shrieks. "You're meeting his _family_?" They all exchange looks.

Me and my big mouth.

"No," I groan. "I already know Laura- his sister. He just, he invited me over for dinner and I politely accepted."

They all make the same exact face and look at each other again. Why didn't I take Girl as my language class? It would have been so much more helpful in life than Latin.

"So…it isn't a date?" Allison asks, an unreadable expression on her face. Kind of like pity and incredulousness and joy all rolled into one.

"And you aren't going to go take hours to get ready and pick out the right outfit for your not-date?" Erica asks, her face much easier to read. A mischievous smirk and a wink. Pure Erica.

"And you don't need our help?" Lydia finishes, an eyebrow cocked.

"No, no, and no. Or yes, yes, and yes. I don't know, whichever one means it isn't, I'm not, and I don't." I open the door, shooting all of them looks. "Goodbye."

Lydia pouts. "Bye. Have fun on your date." She shoots me one last smirk and then she's out. Ugh.

Erica simply hugs me, slips something in my pocket and is out. Allison shoots me a smile, still wrapped up in texting Scott.

Never mind what I said before. These _girls_ will be the death of me. Trying to tell me this is a date… Which it isn't, right? Nope, nope, totally not

But, I should probably go pick out an outfit. I mean, they're going to be telling me their deepest secrets. I need to look presentable, at least.

But I am not going to shower for him. Because this is not a date.

Though, I do need a shower…

Oh, fuck it. He'll probably be able to smell soap on me and know I showered- not for him, for myself, excuse you- but I guess that's better than sweat and blood from last night.

I rush to the bathroom and start to peel my clothes off. Only then, do I remember Erica's parting gift. What did she put in my pocket?

I dip my hand inside, expecting the worse. My fingers close around a small square and I pull it out slowly, squeezing my eyes shut.

I take a peek and it's a…condom. That bitch left me a condom.

I throw it out just to prove to myself that I am definitely not going to need it and hop in the shower. The whole time, I make a point of not touching below the belt with anything other than soap. I am _not_ going there. And I am definitely not jacking off before seeing Derek.

I wrap the fluffy red towel around my waist and walk leisurely to my room. Once I'm there, I drop the towel and bend over to root through my drawer for some boxers.

"Ahem," someone clears their throat behind me.

"Shit!" I yell out and pull my towel up, spinning around. Sitting on my bed is the man of the hour, our very own Derek Hale with the usual scowl in place.

"God dammit, man, you can't just do that! What is wrong with you?" I secure the towel and groan. He didn't see my frontal goods but he got a pretty good view of my ass. Bent over. Oh, God.

"I'm here to pick you up," he says simply and I glare at him.

"And _why_ didn't you come through the front door? No, rewind, why are you even picking me up? You know my Jeep just got fixed. Why would I need a ride?" Feeling ridiculously self-conscious, I tug on a shirt and precariously try to pull my underwear off without giving him a show.

He shrugs. "I thought you would appreciate it."

"Well, I don't. Especially because _you sneaked in here while I was naked_. I am pretty sure that is illegal." His scowl deepens and I feel bad for a moment, because he was only trying to help, after all. But then I realize that, nope, I am _not_ feeling bad for the guy who just sneaked into my bedroom and saw my pasty ass.

He shrugs again, but makes no movement to leave. "Um, Derek? I cannot believe I am actually asking you this instead of calling my sheriff father on your perverted ass, but can you please get out so I can get dressed? Then, I will gladly accept your ride. Okay, maybe not gladly. I'll probably still be kinda pissed at you. But I'll be happier than if I were naked. Which I am right now. Damn it, Derek, the first non-related person to see me naked was supposed to be a hot chick. Preferably of the petite, strawberry-blonde category. This ruins all my plans. You always ruin ev-" I cut myself off as I watch Derek get up and swiftly leave through my window. Through my fucking window.

I hear him mumble something like, "I didn't want to be the first person to see you naked, trust me," which _rude_, because the least you could do after seeing someone in the nude is give them some sort of approval. Like, 'Hey, Stiles, have you gained some muscle? Nice.' Or 'Wow, you have very nice inguinal ligaments.' Or 'Hey, your penis is the average size of someone your age. Good job with drinking all that milk and shit.' That would have been nice.

But, nope. I got Scowly McScowl Pants to pop that cherry. But, whatever. I'm over it. I will hold in my various feelings about this event in until later when I am safely nestled in my comforter with my journal- which is totally different than a diary, by the way- in hand.

I have no idea at all what we're doing for dinner, if we are going out or someone is making something or we're dining in the parking lot of McDonald's. Who knows. But Derek was wearing his usual henley and jeans combo, so I just throw on my trademark plaid shirt over five undershirts and jeans outfit.

I go downstairs- no way in hell am I climbing out that window like fucking Spiderman- and run into my dad.

"Oh, hey, Dad, um, I'm going out with a… friend. Dinner is done; it's on the stove. There's some lettuce and stuff in the fridge, so make yourself a salad to go with it. I'll be back by ten at the latest." I peck him on the cheek and turn to tug on a jacket.

"Scott?" My dad asks into his coffee mug, his eyes flashing up to me.

"Um, no. Derek Hale, the, uh, new kid? I don't know if you've heard of him. Not that he's had any run ins with the police! Not that I know of, anyway. And, oh, God, I'm just gonna shut up while I'm ahead. Which I'm not, considering where this conversation is going. And, okay, yup, I'm shutting up now." Dad sighs, putting his mug down.

"Well, I'm glad to hear you're making new friends," he says and I nod rapidly.

"Yup, yup, I am. And that new friend is actually waiting outside as we speak and it would be rude to make him wait, so…" I swallow loudly and Dad simply raises his eyebrows.

"He's… Just a friend, right?" His face looks tired and as if he really doesn't want to talk right now.

My eyes widen and I jump. "Definitely! Oh, my God, yes! Just a friend! Just a guy who is a friend. A guy friend. Not even a good friend. And acquaintance, really. Just two guy acquaintances going out for dinner, nothing weird. Nothing romantic, don't you worry, Dad." My voice is way too shrill and I'm even more flaily than usual (Is flaily even a word? It totally should be.).

Dad sighs again, deeper this time. "Good," he replies, but he doesn't sound completely convinced. "I am way too tired and not nearly drunk enough for that conversation."

"Ha ha!" I laugh fakely and start to leave. "Good one, Dad. I'll see you later. Bye." I literally sprint out the door.

One look from Derek and I know he's heard the whole thing.

"Not. One. Word," I warn him, climbing into his admittedly comfortable but really douchebaggy car.

"I wasn't going to say anything, trust me," he replies with a smirk.

I open my mouth to retort and his arm reaches out and cranks up the radio to a deafening volume. He flashes me a quick grin to my glare.

I wonder how he can listen to it that loud with his wolfy senses. If it's hurting my ears so badly, how must it feel to a freak like him?

There's no conversation on the way there, which makes me uncomfortable, but at least it isn't silence. I hate silence.

We're there quickly and I feel awkward when Derek opens my door for me, like it really is a date. Which it isn't, because then I would be on a date with his sister, too, which is a little too kinky for my taste, thank you very much.

Of course, he may only be doing it because Laura is in the open doorway, staring at us.

"Stiles!" She calls out happily and I return the smile.

"Hello," I greet, surprised when she pulls me into a hug. When we pull apart, she's smirking at Derek and I know there's something I'm missing. Damn wolves.

"You look wonderful," she says and I look down at my ensemble. Um.

"Laura, we're here for you to answer his questions, not make a new BFF," Derek snaps at her, eyebrows in full broody mood.

"Why not both, Derek?" The smirk is still in place and he growls before pushing in front of her. Her musical laugh echoes throughout the house.

I can tell it's going to be an interesting night.

* * *

**AN-**

**So, I decided to start putting these at the end, because it seems nicer and easier.**

**I know I'm a bitch for ending it there, but the next update will be up sooner I SWEAR! I swear on my love for Stiles.**

**Sorry this is a little late but I swear I have reasonable excuses! The hurricane hit us kinda hard and my power was out for a while, meaning when my laptop dies, it was gone for a while. **

**AND THEN I had written out over half of it and then my computer got stupid and reset and erased ALL OF IT. I swear, I almost cried. **

**And finally, to top it all off, I got deathly ill. I am dying from the flu. BUT I still sat down and wrote, even though I had no inspiration whatsoever. I almost made Stiles get sick as revenge, but I decided that'd be kinda mean.**

**But here it is. Finalllly.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer- I used to at least have my shame, but I lost it when I joined tumblr.**

**Warning- this chapter falls proudly into the M rating.**

* * *

"I made us steak," Laura says brightly and I grin tentatively back at her. She is acting really different than the first time I met her. I clearly remember lots of teasing and sex jokes that day. Now she's acting like, well, in Derek's terms, she's trying to be my 'BFF'.

"Cool. Um, it's not going to be raw is it?" I ask cautiously. Derek rolls his eyes and Laura laughs like I'm joking. Which I'm not.

"Nope. Unless that's how you like it?" I assure her with a head shake that medium-rare is so perfectly fine by me.

The last time I was in the Hale House, I didn't really have time to look around. All those times I- or me and Scott- had come by here, always staying _just_ far enough away, I don't know what I imagined the inside to look like. Maybe some kind of medieval torture theme. Or just a big cave. But, in actuality, it isn't that bad.

Sure, a lot of their stuff got ruined in the infamous Hale fire, but it looks like they've done a pretty good job of replacing most of it. There are just enough destroyed remains to make you feel unsettled, but not totally uncomfortable.

Derek strides into the kitchen and pulls out a paper plate, only to have it smacked out of his hands by Laura.

"Derek!" She scolds, shaking her head at him. "We have a guest. We're using our nice plates." Derek scowls at her, but places it back, grumbling only slightly.

The whole exchange is so family sitcom, so _domestic_, I can't help but smile. I get a glare from Derek. Is it just me or is he doing that a lot more than usual tonight?

"So, Stiles, do you have any questions?" Laura asks me when we're all sitting at the table. The table that is way too large for two people.

"Um, not any that are really important," I mumble, wondering if my skin is turning red. I do have questions, but most of them are things like _Do werewolves go into heat? _And _Do werewolves have a knot?_ And _Would the one of you with the most Y chromosomes please demonstrate the answers to my previous questions?_

And, hey, it isn't my fault. Really, it's the Internet's. Anything you look up turns sexual and makes you look like you have a really fucked up phillia.

"Anything is fine. Shoot," Laura is smiling again, but she keeps glancing at Derek with a smirk and what the hell is going on? Do I smell bad? _Oh, my God, _did I get aroused thinking of my perfectly reasonable questions?

"How about you just tell me about it and I'll ask anything that comes to mind," I suggest weakly, staring down at my plate.

So, she does. And, let me tell you, it is _long_. But not boring, thankfully. I don't see how two werewolves giving you the entire history of their species could in any way be boring.

Laura is talking about mates at the moment. "Some werewolves prefer to date around and just have flings, but they will never be truly happy or in love until they find their mate. Mates are special. Everything is heightened around them. They get you easier than most people, but, unfortunately, they also get _to_ you easier than most. Derek, stop eating with your hands, you barbarian. Some weres can just tell when they've found their mate, but others aren't as intuitive about that sort of thing." Another pointed look at Derek, which he ignores in favor of death-glaring at the remains of his steak. "Some people will try and fool themselves into thinking they have found their mate, but you can always tell that it isn't really."

The angst is getting too much for me, so I decide to speak up. "Have either of you found your mates?"

Laura's features soften. "Not yet. Until I do, I am fine with dating humans. They're usually fun." I don't know what expression I have on, but it's enough to make her laugh.

I try to subtly look at Derek, but he's already staring at me. As soon as my eyes connect with his, he turns away, leaving me confused.

What the fuck is happening tonight?

"I don't really date. Not anymore," he says quietly and you know what? I am not going to ask. Nope. No matter how infuriatingly vague and mysterious that answer is, no matter how it is obviously weighted with _something_, I will not ask.

"Not anymore?"

I forgot how my mouth is always five steps behind my brain.

"Yeah," he replies and shoves some more food in his mouth. All too aware of the sudden turn to awkward-town this conversation just took, I swallow loudly.

"So, that's it?" I ask and Laura nods. "Wow. A lot to take in. Um, I guess you want me to keep this a secret from everyone?" Another nod. "Cool. Okay, I can do that. I am so good at keeping secrets. Well, other people's secrets. Not my own. During awkward silences, I kind of just blurt out my deepest, darkest secrets. Like, duh, Stiles, that creates _more_ awkward silences. But, um, yeah, I'm good with keeping yours."

Laura gives me an amused grin. "So, Stiles, what about you? Do you have anyone special in your life right now?" Derek's knife scrapes against his plate loudly and unpleasantly.

"Everyone is special in their own way?" I try, only to be met with some pretty terrifying looks. And not just because they're given by a group of werewolves. "Um, no, nobody worth mentioning. Not anybody who requites it."

"Lydia Martin, right?" Derek grunts and I look at him incredulously. He shrugs. "You always smell, er, sexually excited around her." And, nope, I did not just start internally sobbing. Thank you, Derek, for helping me make such a wonderful and memorable impression on your sister. "And, I overheard you and Scott talking about it. It isn't like it's a secret, right?"

"No," I groan. "I don't even… Not anymore. I just, me and her, this year- we're friends. We just became friends-ish. I'm not going to mess that up." Laura is still grinning brightly and Derek is still shoving handfuls of meat in his face.

"Excuse him," Laura says, her eyes twinkling. "He usually has very good table manners. He actually yells at me if I chew with my mouth open, just to get the freaking food in. When he gets nervous, he acts like he was, well, raised by wolves." She winks at me and I can't help the laugh that comes bubbling up. Yes, I believe I could become very good friends with this woman.

Derek doesn't look as amused, however. "I'm not nervous," he grumbles. "Why would I be nervous? There's nothing to be nervous about." He shoves more food in and _God, _what is _up_ with him lately? He's been acting like a huge grumpy potato. I mean, I haven't known him for that long really and he is usually all moody and broody but never this bad. And he usually has his redeeming moments, at least.

I want to ask him, but I don't for two reasons. One- his sister is right here and we are all having a very nice and not at all awkward meal. And two- the last time I very calmly asked him about his mood, he turned furry and tried to kill me.

But, unfortunately, I know I'm going to have to eventually.

"If anyone should be nervous, it would be me," I say lightly. "I'm the one surrounded by freaking werewolves." Unfortunately, my sentence seemed to just deepen Derek's frown lines. I shoot him my 'what the fuck' face and he responds with what I suspect to be an 'I'm just a big grumpy lump of Sourwolf. Ignore me' look. Or at least that's what I get out of it.

"Don't worry, Stiles, there will definitely not be a repeat of what happened the other night," Laura says calmly, like _that's _what I'm worried about. "Which, by the way, I'm very sorry about. If there are any medical costs, Derek will definitely pay them." She narrows her eyes and shoots him a death glare. This whole family is so freaking bipolar, I can't even.

"Nope, no medical anythings. Just a flesh wound. I took care of it myself and didn't even leave any suspicious bloodstains behind. Go Stiles." Derek still has those lines on his forehead and around his mouth and a grumpy look on his face and for some reason that is really bothering me. Why has he been acting even crankier than usual? If I don't find out soon- especially if it is related to me- my head might just implode.

I try to ask him through carefully crafted facial expressions, but since I don't speak Eyebrow, he doesn't understand. But he does look at me like I'm an idiot. Which I so totally am.

"Are you okay?" Laura asks with a very amused expression and I stop midway with my 'Just tell me what's wrong' face- a narrowing of one eye, raise of the lip, and scrunch of the nose, complete with a little headshake- to look at her.

"Fine," I squeak out, turning to my plate.

"Well, I'm going to go to the bathroom," Laura excuses herself, still giving me a strange look. "Don't ravage each other on the table while I'm gone." She starts to walk off and then pauses. "Or at least be quick." With one last smirk, she's gone.

I turn to roll my eyes at Derek in amusement, but he's just glowering at his plate again. "Are we back to this?" I ask him with an exaggerated sigh.

"To what," he rumbles and _how_ does he make his questions sound like his usual grumpy statements?

"To you being a sack of Sourwolf again? I swear, I get whiplash trying to keep up with you and your mood swings!" No, Stiles, do _not_ get mad again. Nothing goes well when you get mad. Last time you got mad- about the same freaking thing!- you got bitten. Twice.

Derek shrugs and eats some more steak.

"Is it something I did? Are you mad at me?" A horrible thought comes to me. What if that night, he had meant to kill me? Am I not supposed to be alive right now? Is that why he's mad?

"No, no, I'm not mad at _you_," he says, looking frustrated. I wait. "I shouldn't have lost control that night, Stiles." I open my mouth to reply, but he beats me to it. "No, Stiles, don't. I've never felt that out of control, that _weak_, before. I've hurt people before. Mostly in my wolf form, sure, but still. But I've never felt so guilty and terrible about it. I could have killed you! You're so innocent and you could be dead right now. Because of me. I don't think I would have been able to take it. It's so different around you. I lose control more easily, I get angrier quicker, happier quicker. And I just feel so… protective over you."

Wow. I just… wow. I've never heard Derek say so much. And I guess my theory was wrong.

"For once, I don't know what to say," I confess finally, clearing my throat. "I mean, I usually get on people's nerves, so I guess it isn't really _that_ surprising, but I've never made anyone try to kill me before." I think about it. "Well, I've never made someone turn into a wolf and try to kill me before," I amend.

"Huh," Derek grunts and I shoot him a look. "Well, what do you want me to say? I'm not you, Stiles. I don't just say everything that comes to mind. I can't do that. I like to think my things out before I say them and, usually, by the time I'm done thinking, the conversation has moved on."

"There's a middle ground," I point out but only half-heartedly, because this is happening. He's talking to me. He's opening up to me. Kind of. He's not exactly sharing his deepest darkest secrets- like anything could trump his 'I sprout fur and teeth' card- but he is talking to me. Which is a start.

"I'll wait for you. I'll remember next time," I say, shrugging. "I can't expect everyone's brain to go a mile a minute like mine. I guess, sometimes I forget. But next time, next time I'll wait for you." I try a smile, but Derek is back to the creepy staring. Except, this time it isn't creepy. It's almost… nice.

"Well, I see by the massive eyesex still going on that you two didn't work out your problems while I was gone," Laura's voice floats in as she makes her appearance. Please. Like she didn't hear every word.

"Actually," I start, a small smile on my face. "I think we did."

xXx

The ride home is silent. Deadly. I hate silence, but I can't think of anything to say. I can't find it in me to joke around after that big heartfelt moment, but I don't really want to continue that conversation. I've had enough angst for the night, thank you.

"Dinner was… nice," I say finally, when we get to my door and wow. That's exactly what someone would say after going on a date. Which this wasn't, because no. Nothing about it was remotely datelike. Other than the dinner. And the talking. But, his sister was there! The whole time! Okay, except for her extended bathroom trip. But, most of the time. Totally not a date.

Except that now we're standing on my porch, facing each other and of all things, I just said that dinner was _nice_. Ugh. Next, I'm going to say 'let's do it again sometime!' or hand him a paper that says 'do you like me? check yes or no'.

"Nice?" Derek raises a critical eyebrow at my word choice.

"Totally nice. In an awkward, 'we're here to discuss your wolflihood' way. But, nice."

"Nice," Derek agrees and _oh, my God_, we're just standing here and what is going on and he isn't going to kiss me because this wasn't a date, but could he do something, _please_?

He does something.

He disappears.

And, okay, maybe that's a bit dramatic, because all he does is flash me a teeny grin and walk down my porch stairs. Okay. Totally anti-climactic.

I kick off my shoes, yell an '"I'm back!" to my dad, and take off upstairs. And, shit, my hands are down my pants before I even hit the bed.

One thing I feel I need to make sure- I'm not thinking about Derek. I have never thought about Derek while jerking off. Never. And I'm not going to start now.

So, okay, maybe I've thought about Danny once or twice. And I may have thought about Scott _one time_ when I was thirteen and first discovering the joys of masturbating and my inner gay- bi?- ness.

But, no. Not Derek. Because Derek just got here this month and I have grown able to control my raging hormones since The Scott Situation of 2009.

So, instead, I think about Lydia. Who looked amazing today, as usual. She had been wearing this deep purple sweater with a plunging neckline that drew my eyes straight to her marvelous breasts.

And, yeah, it may be a little weird to think about her like this now that she is my kinda-friend. But until I find someone else to think of, she is doing just fine.

I'm already hard and it has never taken much for me to finish- hello teenage hormones, how are you doing? - so I just start thinking of Lydia's full brightly colored lips in a perfect 'o'.

I lick a stripe on my palm and start pumping slowly, thinking about lowering myself into the lips and oh.

_Oh. _Wait a second. Why are Lydia's cheeks so rough? Is that… stubble? I look to the imaginary redhead and holy shit, it's Derek. Of course.

Well, what did you expect? I ask myself, still running my fist up and down my dick. Jerking off right after seeing him. You should know better.

But I don't stop touching. And I don't force myself to stop imagining someone with one less X chromosome than usual.

I imagine Derek's hands coming up to my hips, his hold bruising. His breath hot on my cheek. His lips coming to my neck, kissing and licking and sucking and _biting_. He catches my skin in between his teeth and nibbles gently before soothing the area with his hot tongue.

_Fuck_. My hand goes faster, squeezing gently as I pump steadily up and down. Imaginary!Derek lets me out of his mouth to snake up my body and grind up against me, the friction and heat of our cocks burning me pleasantly. A moan slips through my lips and I shove my other fist in my mouth.

I think of what Derek's moans would sound like, hot and grumbly in my ears. My dick erupts in my hands, spraying its load onto my sheets and my body. I choke down the cry of _Derek_ as I come suddenly.

Looking at the creamy white substance all over my room, I groan quietly.

How the hell am I going to look Derek in the eye tomorrow?

* * *

**AN- And here is some extra porn for you! I've written smut before- in Seven Devils, every other chapter was literally straight (actually, it was gay ahah) porn- but I have never written a masturbating scene. Also, seeing as I am definitely not a male, so tell me if this is too bad.**

**I don't know, I feel like I may have let some of you down with the dinner scene- I got some messages on tumblr saying you guys were looking forward to it- but hopefully you like it. I'm almost as insecure about my Laura as I am about my Derek.**

**So, I hope you guys like it! Reviews make my day, if you have the time. Thanks for reading!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer- I probably can't even say I own this idea. Do you know how many high school AUs there are?**

* * *

Because I have absolutely no shame at all, I go to school the next day. With Derek. Derek Hale. Derek Hale who had been the main star of my fantasies last night. And I look him straight in the eye and talk to him. And I don't blush once.

"Stiles, why is your face so red?" Derek asks, looking amused as we walk to our next class. Thank God we got past his grumpy wolf phase.

And, okay, maybe I have been blushing. A lot.

"I'm hot," I answer quickly. Derek just nods.

"So, what are you doing after school today?" Derek asks, and yes, I know he's only asking to make small talk but I can imagine he's asking me out, okay? I'm allowed to do that.

Because, apparently now that I've let myself masturbate to a guy, I can let the gay run free.

"Lacrosse practice," I reply. "Then some homework, I guess. You?"

Derek's face falls slightly. "Nothing really. It's just I've been here for a while and I still haven't really done or seen anything in town. I was hoping you could show me. But, I can always ask Isaac or Scott or even Erica or Lydia or someone. It's fine."

"No!" I blurt out quickly, my hands flying out. "After lacrosse, I can show you." Derek grins widely.

"I thought you had homework," he reminds me with a slight teasing tone. We slow down as we reach my class.

"I can put it off for a couple of hours. If you want a tour, you're not going to half-ass it. I can almost guarantee that I know more about this town than anyone else willing to help you." _And, this way, nobody else will get you in their clutches_, I add mentally. Which, wow, sounds really possessive. Which is totally crazy, because I don't possess Derek. Not even close.

"Okay," Derek shrugs. "Cool. See you then." He graces me with one last smile before walking off.

"Yup! See you then! I will see you at that time. Bye, Derek," I may or may not yell down the hallway. And he may or may not chuckle but not look back. Bastard.

Jesus Christ. I really need to get over myself. I was never like this after I figured out that Lydia was better than an old Playboy. Or, that one time, with Danny. Maybe it's because I wasn't friends with them, but whatever it was, I need to do it again. Or fake it until I make it. Whatever works.

The one thing I should _stop_ doing is making an idiot out of myself in front of Derek. Yeah, that would probably be good.

"Mr. Stilinski, do you have last night's homework?"

Oh, yeah, I should probably do my homework, too.

xXx

Greenburg is back on his feet, finally. Meaning I'm back on the bench. Meaning I get to freeze my ass off on a cold stone bench, watching other people hit a ball around. Fun.

But I have a nice afternoon ahead of me filled with sexual frustration and gay revelations, so it's not all dark gloomy clouds.

Oh, wait.

It is.

And, I stupidly told Derek that I knew everything about this town, which, in fact, it's almost the opposite. I don't give a rat's ass about this town's history. And the only places I ever really go are school, the woods, Scott's house, the library, and McDonald's. Not exactly tour material.

But, hey, Derek seems like the president of the misanthropy club, so maybe he won't want to actually go anywhere people are. Or maybe I'll have to pretend I actually know what I'm doing and pull some shit out of my ass as I go.

With my luck, we all know which one it is going to be.

"Dude, what are you doing?" Scott's voice pulls me out of my thoughts. "Everyone's gone."

I look around to see an empty field and Scott's concerned brown eyes. Or, as concerned as Scott can be. He's not the most observant if you hadn't noticed.

"Oh, yeah, sorry, man. I was just thinking." I let Scott pull me up and towards the locker room.

His face transforms into a grin. "I knew I knew that face! Your 'thinking about Lydia' face." He punches me softly on the shoulder.

"Um. Yeah," I reply weakly, swallowing. "When am I not?"

Scott laughs. "Hey, you wanna hang out today? We haven't played some video games and had a bro night in a while." He smiles eagerly at me and I brighten up slightly. I don't point out that the reason we haven't hung out is because of him and his Allison obsession. I know I told Derek I would show him around, but if Scott is actually choosing me over Allison for once, maybe-

"Allison is going out with her parents tonight, so we had to cancel our date. I knew you would be free."

_Ouch_. My heart sinks and I barely even feel bad when I tell him, "Sorry, dude. I have plans tonight."

He scrunches his face up at me- his trademark confused puppy face. "Really? You and your dad doing something?"

Another punch to the stomach. I know he doesn't mean it like that, but, seriously. "No," I say icily. "I'm going out with Derek. He hasn't really seen the town yet and I thought I would show him."

He raises his eyebrows as we enter the locker room. "I thought you guys didn't like each other." He pauses. "Or, at least, he didn't like you."

"Yes, well, we've gotten past that. I think. I hope." Because he must like me as at least an acquaintance now, right? If he asked me to go out with him, on a perfectly platonic date? You don't willingly hang out with people you hate.

"Whatever," Scott sighs, pulling on his shirt. "I just feel like we never hang out anymore." His lower lip pushes out slightly.

I let a bitch face take over my features, but swallow back the harsh words I really want to say. Because, really, Scott? Whose fault is that? "We'll hang out soon. I promise."

"Good," he replies with a small grin. "Because, otherwise, I'll be forced to pull out the friendship necklace." I groan in response.

"You're never going to let me live that down, are you?" I whine as we walk out. Scott snorts and opens his mouth to reply, before we crash into a wall of unfairly firm muscle. _Déjà vu. _

"Derek," I mumble into his pectorals. "Hi."

"Hi," he answers, sounding amused. "Hello, Scott." Scott just nods before hurrying off with a- _hard_- slap on my back.

"Ow," I mutter before looking up at Derek. "So, what's up?"

He looks bemused for a moment. "Aren't you- aren't we-?"

"Oh, right, right, sorry!" I smack my forehead. "Town, tour, facts, got it." Derek looks at me sort of warily and smiles with amusement and confusion. _Smooth, Stiles. Smooth._

I look around for his car and turn to him with a confused expression.

"I, uh, ran to school today," he explains, which, actually doesn't explain a thing. Why would anybody willingly walk, let alone run, to school when they had as beautiful as car as his?

"I was wondering if we could maybe take your car?" He gestures to my much less glamorous vehicle. I shrug in agreement.

We hop in and I turn to him, starting up the car. "So, where are we headed?" He scrunches up his forehead and nose at my question, which- nope. Definitely not adorable.

"Um. I don't know. The problem kind of is that I don't know anything about this town. Including what places to go to." He shrugs his broad shoulders, looking a bit uncomfortable.

"Well, are you hungry?" I ask, because, hey, I'm always up for food.

"I could eat," he answers, shrugging again. "You're not thinking of McDonald's, are you?" He grins at me, white teeth blinding.

"There's this diner down by the police station that I used to go to when my dad was working. It makes awesome milkshakes." I cock my head and raise my eyebrows, hoping he agrees. I could always use a chocolate milkshake after sitting on a bench for an hour or so.

He stares at me for a few moments before sighing and nodding. "Fine." He looks down at his abs in a sad farewell. I scoff. I've had plenty of greasy diner food and look how it has treated me.

Actually, never mind, please don't look at that.

I pull out of the school parking lot and switch on the radio. I immediately brighten at the familiar song that fills the car.

"Back in black! I hit the sack! I've been too long, I'm glad to be back," I sing along to the radio absentmindedly, tapping my knuckles on the steering wheel. Derek shoots me an amused look, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, I'm let loose," I continue, grinning. "From the noose. That's kept me hanging about." Derek's lips twist slightly.

"I keep looking at the sky. 'Cause it's getting' me high." My shoulders start to shake to the beat. Derek rolls his eyes.

"What are you doing?" He asks, interrupting my groove. I turn to him.

"Getting my funk on," I answer easily, a tiny smile showing on my lips.

"Your funk?" Derek's eyes roll upwards once again. "Sounds gross."

I laugh, surprised by his attempt at a joke. "It's awesome. At least mine is."

The corners of his lips curl up a tiny bit, half amused and half bemused.

I stare him and he stares back. I feel trapped, caught in his green gaze.

"Oh, I'm back," I talk rather than sing, still staring at Derek.

"Yes, I'm back," Derek echoes, his eyes smiling.

"Well, I'm back," I say a little bit louder, my wide grin taking up half my face.

"Yes, I'm back," he matches my volume.

"Well, I'm back, back," we both chorus, our totally awful and discordant voices mixing together.

"I'm back in black," we yell, overpowering the volume of the radio.

I make guitar noises as he harmonizes. We have to break off when we start laughing crazily. Or, at least, I do. Derek just kind of snorts.

"Watch the road, idiot," he says which _rude_, because I am the best driver ever, excuse you.

Suddenly aware of the way my life is rapidly turning into a romantic comedy, I quickly switch my attention over to the road in front of us. Even with the song roaring in the background, the following silence is so awkward, it should only be reserved for post coital. All we did was join our- admittedly terrible- voices, not our bodies.

"So, how have you been liking Beacon Hills High?" I ask in a desperate attempt at small talk, then flinch at what has to be the lamest question ever.

"Uh, yeah, sure," he says, shrugging gently and I internally curse myself. But, he continues. "There are some pretty cool people here."

I can't help the grin that cracks my face in two. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"What about girls? Anybody you have your eye on?" He doesn't answer for a second and I run over what I said, trying to find if I accidentally said something awkward or triggering. "Or boys! I mean, I don't know who or what you like. I don't judge. Unless, it's, like, furries or something, which, oh hey, you're half wolf, so I guess you get an excuse. If you need one. I'm not assuming you're into bestiality. Or, if you do, that you need an excuse. Like, wow, have fun with whoever, whatever, you like, you know?"

Contrary to popular belief, I am not always babbling. I don't just run my mouth all the time. No. Only when I'm nervous. When I'm nervous or embarrassed or trying to think up a lie, I just talk until I can figure out something to say. Which sounds really ridiculous, but if you say whatever immediately comes to mind, it distracts people long enough for you to actually come up with something relatively intelligent. Or coherent.

Anyway, I guess I'm nervous or embarrassed or projecting or maybe all three, because I just say anything and everything until I finally cut myself off. Derek is just looking at me with another amused/bemused expression.

"I don't feel any kind of sexual attraction to animals, Stiles," is what he finally says. I let out a relieved sigh.

"Well, that's good, I guess," I respond, trying to smile. "What about the others? Boys or girls? Unless, you don't want to tell me. Which is cool, so cool, like don't even worry about it. Why would you worry about it?" I quickly clamp my mouth shut so I can stop vomiting words.

"I don't like anybody who is in that school right now," Derek says carefully, his brow furrowed.

"Oh," I say, just to say something. "Cool." Because it's not like I expected him to say that he liked _me_ or anybody else or even tell me if he did. I have given him no reason at all to trust me with something like that.

Though, he is being forced to trust me with his biggest secret. But, emphasis on the _being forced to_. I'm pretty sure he wouldn't have just told me that. But, still, next to that, some little crush seems insignificant and tiny.

But, maybe I'm just over-complicating things. I've been known to do that before. Maybe he just doesn't like anybody.

"We're here," I announce quietly, pulling in to the old diner. Derek just as silently climbs out.

"Stiles!" The grandmother-like waitress I love so much, Betty cries out as we walk through the door. "Haven't seen you in a while."

I smile widely and accept the hug she enthusiastically doles out. "Hey, Betty. I know, I've been busy with school and lacrosse."

"And the love life, too, I see," she says suggestively, raising her eyebrows and checking out Derek. "Who is _this_?"

"Uh, this is Derek. He's a _friend_," I enunciate clearly, giving her a pointed look. She rolls her eyes like she doesn't believe it. Which, really, is a compliment of the highest order. Thinking that I could get Derek. I have no problem with her thinking that. Unfortunately, Derek probably does.

"Well, it is nice to meet you, Derek," she smiles warmly at him, pulling his stiff frame into a hug.

"Um, Betty, he's not much of a _hugger_," I say, because I'm observant like that.

"It's fine, Stiles," Derek says, brushing me off. I stare at him in puzzlement for a moment before shrugging. I wonder if he would feel the same way if I was the one hugging him.

Betty leads us to my usual table, the one with a perfect view of who is going in and out of the police station. I like knowing how long my dad is actually out working and how long he is in doing desk work. Also, if he is sneaking in with fast food.

"Take your time, boys," she says, giving me a cheeky smile. She walks off, probably to gossip with the cook. I sigh and open my menu, hiding my surely red face from Derek.

"Sorry about that," I say quietly. He stays silent. "She can be… herself." He still doesn't say anything, so I look up at him and catch the amused glint in his eyes.

"Stiles," he says finally, the corners of his lips turned up slightly. "It's fine. _Really_."

I let out a big deep breath. Okay. We're friends. It's okay if people mistake us as a couple. _He's _okay with people mistaking us as a couple. Because we are friends. And friends aren't totally freaked out by that stuff.

"Cool. What do you want?" I shove a menu in his hands.

"Well, I recall someone telling me that the milkshakes here were 'awesome'," he answers, actually making air-quotes. "And I wouldn't want to miss out on that." I huff quietly, not knowing if he is mocking me or being friendly. Probably some strange mix of the two.

Betty comes back with newly applied lipstick and fluffier hair. I give her an exasperated look and she responds with a raised eyebrow, as if to say 'Hey, you said he was just a friend. I might as well try my luck.'

Which, gross, because she's, like, _old_ and he's mine. Hypothetically. Theoretically. Mentally. Basically everything but literally.

"I'll have a peanut butter chocolate cookie dough milkshake and a bacon cheeseburger with curly fries," I say brightly, thrusting the menu into her hands hard. She just rolls her eyes, not even needing to write my order down. I kind of might always get the same thing. But if it's not broken, why fix it, right?

"Vanilla milkshake and a hamburger, please," Derek responds and I give him a look, because _come on_. That has got to be the most boring order placed in ever. He just looks at me like he doesn't know what's wrong and I just know he must've not gone out a lot with his family as a kid. But he can always make up for that now, right?

"So, do you and your parents and Laura go out much?" I ask, because, really, what else is there to talk about? I babble so much, he probably knows my life story and a half, and all I know about him is that he turns hairy once a month. Not really something to base a friendship on.

Derek looks terribly uncomfortable for a couple silent moments and I wonder if I said something wrong. There was nothing wrong with that, right? Was I overstepping boundaries? Are we not close enough to talk about family?

"Um," Derek finally says quietly, looking down at the patterned tabletop. "My parents, they aren't- they're not really… They are dead."

I swallow and stare at him, my lips forming a tiny 'o'. Duh. Why else wouldn't I have seen his parents once during the two times I've been to his house. Of course they're dead and I just made everything terribly awkward.

"Um," I utter, searching for something to say. "That sucks." Wow, smooth. How comforting. He confides in me with another dark confession and I sooth him by saying it sucks.

"My mom is dead," I blurt out suddenly, because what else am I going to say? "She was a police officer. She got horribly injured and was taken to the hospital. She was treated by Scott's mom- that's how I met him- until she died. My dad started training, because, I guess it made him feel closer to her. And, wow, this conversation just took a turn for the depressing. Why am I telling you this?"

Derek is now staring at me with just as much intensity as he was the table. When he speaks, his voice is almost ragged and hoarse sounding. "Stiles-"

"Here you go, boys." Betty appears out of nowhere, totally oblivious to the dark mood. She gives us each our shakes and burgers and asks if there is anything else she can get us.

"We're fine," Derek answers absently, still looking at me. When she goes away, he opens his mouth like he wants to continue our earlier conversation, but no way.

"Wow, I guess this isn't really what you had in mind when you semi-invited me to show you the town. We should have just gone to the movies. Or shopping. Or the library. Or clubbing, that's always a crowd favorite. Unfortunately, I'm not the best drinking buddy, considering everyone knows my dad is the sheriff and refuses to hook me up with a beer or two out of fear, but whatever. You could probably get something; you look weirdly like you're older. Like, really, who has stubble like that in high school, dude?" I keep talking, because if I don't, he's going to talk or, even worse, it'll be silent.

"I liked this idea," Derek says simply, giving in and I'm relieved. I smile gratefully at him and he just starts to eat his food. I follow suit.

"So, do you want to actually do something after this or just call it a night? I would invite you over to watch something, but you don't real strike me as a movie person for some reason. I think it's the way you act like you are allergic to entertainment and anything that has to do with pop culture." He lets me ramble on and he doesn't say a thing, for which I'm thankful. I still pause to let him speak.

"I like movies." He shrugs, drinking half his milkshake in one gulp. "I'm not totally oblivious to that stuff."

"Just slightly," I agree, grinning, hoping the awkward is over. "So, are you saying you want to watch a movie?" Watching dumb movies and eating way too buttery popcorn is usually a Scott and Stiles thing, but we haven't really done that in a while. I'm up for finding a new partner in crime for a little while.

He looks torn for a minute. "Actually, I think I need to get home. Laura and I need to get… _prepared_." At my questioning look, he continues. "There's a full moon on Sunday. You can never start getting ready too early."

Oh. I swallow, trying not to say something dumb. "And, it's on a school night. Guess you can't use that as an excuse as to why you don't have your homework. 'I'm sorry, sir, my werewolf sister ate my homework.'" Mission failed.

He looks vaguely amused. "Yeah, pretty much. But I don't think she'll eat my homework. We're both pretty in control by now."

I refrain from saying _I have scars that prove otherwise_, because, damn it, that is in the past now. I'm over it, he's over it, we're all over it.

"Oh, okay, cool. Will you be in school on Monday?" I watch Derek suck down the rest of his milkshake, cheeks hollowed in. Damn, how does he make drinking liquid ice cream look sexy? I know I probably have chocolate all over my face and have been chasing the straw down with my tongue the whole time. Maybe it is a wolf thing.

"Most likely. I probably won't even wolf out Sunday night. Again, I can mostly control it. We just stay inside as a precaution. Some people and things can set us off. Things that trigger us from past memories or people that we care about. Especially since neither one of us have found our mate yet. Mates are special. The smallest thing from them can heighten everything, negatively or positively. If you get in a tiny argument with them that night, you can wolf out and kill them." I raise my eyebrows at the new information.

"Wow. That is… terrible. For both parts." I try to give him a comforting smile.

"It's not all bad," he shrugs slightly, finishing his burger. "They can also affect you positively. As long as you're careful around them, that can be the best night of your lives. But some- understandably- don't want to take the risk."

Betty comes by again, asking if we want the check or dessert. Derek and I look at each other and immediately agree on the check.

I take some crumpled bills out of my back pocket to pay for at least my half. I mean, it was my idea to get food anyway. But Derek shakes his head at me, taking his wallet out.

"No!" I cry suddenly, startling him. "I can pay for my half." He gives me a weird look like he doesn't understand me but complies silently.

And, okay, that may have been a bit of an overreaction, but he obviously doesn't understand that if he pays for both of us, this is a date. And I really don't want to force him into a date with me, no matter how much I want it to be one.

He lays a crisp bill out as a tip- he's allowed to be the one to tip her, because, come on, I'm not made of money- and we get up to go.

We don't talk on the ride back, but that's my fault. As soon as we reached my car, I flicked on the radio, not wanting to talk about dead relatives or the rules of wolfiness. When another ACDC song comes on, Derek peeks at me out of the corner of his eye, but I stay silent.

We reach his house and I turn to him with a smile, not wanting to ruin the progress we made today. Which, hopefully, isn't nonexistent and just in my hopeful mind.

"Thanks," Derek says, his lips pressed tightly together in what may be a smile of some sort. "It was…fun."

We're getting into the romantic comedy category again, so I just grin at him. "Yup, yup, totally." I don't add the _We should do it again sometime_ because I know it'll seem like I'm forcing him again. Plus, the cheese factor, come _on_.

"Well, I'm going to go," he continues, looking at me with an unreadable expression. I beam brightly at him until he finally looks away with a tiny audible exhale of air.

"Bye, Derek!" I squeak the moment he gets out, ready to floor it. I don't though. Instead, I sit there, watching him walk into his house, looking back exactly two and a half- there may or may not have been an aborted head turn- times.

As soon as he disappears inside, I slam my head down on the steering wheel.

I am _so_ fucked.

* * *

**AN- I know, I know, I am the most terrible author ever. I never update. I just got caught up in some stuff and my idiot brother stepped on my laptop and broke the top left-hand corner of the screen. Meaning, sometime soon, it is going to have to be sent in. He better let me use his laptop in the meantime.**

**Also, I just want to squeal and hug you all because you are amazing. In the last two weeks, about ten or so of my readers have come to me with story ideas, asking me to help them organize their thoughts or asking if I thought the writing was good enough or if I would read over what they had. I don't know ****_what_**** brought it on but I am so happy about whatever it was! I love when you guys talk to me- whether it be PMing or reviewing or messaging me on tumblr- and I always, always, ****_always_**** make sure to answer. **

**I had absolutely ****_no_**** inspiration whatsoever for this chapter- I don't even know where that Back in Black scene came from; it didn't even make sense, like wtf- so sorry if it sucks. I tried to apologize for the long wait by posting my sterek Christmas story, but I don't know if that made up for it.**

**Anyways, thanks for reading! If you catch any errors, please don't hesitate to inform me. Love you all.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer- Dude, chill, it's just Jeff Davis writing some fanfic about my OTP. No big deal.**

* * *

"Stiles!" I hear and I snap to my father's voice.

"Huh?" He lets out a sigh and goes back to eating his highly nutritious meal.

"I said, are you okay? You seem kind of… distracted." He raises an eyebrow at me, silently probing to see if I had a problem. I mirror his sigh.

"I'm fine. Just tired." _Yeah, that and the only thing I can fucking think about is Derek Hale. Derek Hale and his broodiness. Derek Hale and his leather jacket. Derek Hale and his stupid fucking eyebrows. Derek Hale and the stupidly sexual face he makes when he's drinking a milkshake-_

"You sure? If there's anything you need- _want _to talk about, I'm always here for you. You know that, right, son?" Dad looks slightly uncomfortable but loving and determined at the same time, like he doesn't really want to be having this conversation, but he knows he has to.

"Yeah, yeah, totally, Dad. If there's anything you need to know, I will definitely tell you." I shove a spoonful of corn in my mouth, smiling at him around it.

"I didn't say to tell me if there was anything I needed to know, Stiles. I said to tell me if there is anything you want to talk about. Okay?"

This time when I smile, it isn't as fake. "Right, Dad. Okay."

The moment is ruined by the phone ringing. I rush up to answer it and Dad just lets me with a sigh. "Stilinski residence!"

It's for my dad. Of course. I hand it over to him and he takes it with a pointed look at me. "We'll be continuing this conversation later, okay, young man?" _God, I hope not_. But I nod anyway.

Seeing no point in eating at the table if I'm alone, I take my meal upstairs to my room. I collapse onto my bed with a sigh, setting my plate on my desk.

Suddenly, I'm hit with the memory from about a week ago, the day after Derek had shifted in front of me, when he had snuck in through my window. Or even just a couple days ago, when he had snuck in here while I was naked- Jesus, how that event would play out differently if it happened now.

I walk slowly over to the window and open it, poking my head out and looking around. I feel ridiculous.

I don't know if I want him to be out there, creeping around or not. If he was, he probably wouldn't show himself anyway. How do you even explain something like that?

I still do it. "Derek," I whisper, knowing that if he was out there- unlikely- that he would still hear me. I stand there for three counts before repeating it once more.

I hear a crash down below and I whip my head towards it, almost laughing out loud when I see a stray cat. What the fuck am I doing? This is just plain silly.

I close my window, shaking my head at my stupidity. For someone with the second highest GPA in my class- only behind our very own Lydia Martin- I really do act like an idiot most of the time.

I turn on my laptop and watch all the YouTube videos Scott has sent me this week- _lol stiles look at dis bunny it thinks it's a human or something u will rofl so cute_- as I eat my dinner. Eventually, I look at the clock, see it is midnight and decide I should probably at least attempt to get some sleep.

I rush off to the bathroom to pee before I go to sleep, coming back in only my boxers. Closing my eyes to yawn, I reach over to flick off the light.

And a hand catches my arm.

"_Ahhhhhhhh_!" I try to twist my arm out of the grasp, shouting. My eyes fly open and I see Derek looking at me with a distinctly unimpressed look.

"We have got to stop meeting like this," I say weakly and he lets my arm go, rolling his eyes. "Uh, why are you here?"

He isn't looking at my face, but at my chest and I quickly look down to check if I stained my shirt during dinner. Only to find I'm not wearing a shirt. Or pants. Right. Forgot about that.

I quickly pull on a shirt to cover myself and sit down on my bed, nonchalantly covering my legs with sheets. I know I just thought to myself that if this happened, it would go differently than last time, that something would actually _happen_ but it's easier thought than done.

"You have moles even on your chest," he says thoughtfully, startling me. "Huh." He then looks up at me expectantly, like _I'm _the one who just climbed into his room in the middle of the night and shamelessly stared at his chest before _commenting_ on it.

"What are you doing here?" I repeat, enunciating clearly.

"You called me," he answers, staring at me like I'm a small child. "Sorry it took me so long. I was kind of asleep and then I didn't know if it was really you calling or just a part of some dream or something," he explains, actually not explaining _anything_. What the hell kind of answer is that?

"I… called you?" My eyes dart over to my phone, plugged into the wall, charging. I scrunch up my face in confusion. Unless he means…

"Wait a second. You _heard_ that? You've been outside my window this whole time?" I'm not sure if I feel flattered or creeped out.

He rolls his green eyes. "No, you idiot. But I could feel you, that you wanted me." He thinks about his wording and then adds on, "to come." He pauses, runs a hand through his hair and sighs. "To you."

"Wait a second, even when you're across town, you can hear me- can fucking _feel_ me- if I need you?" My eyebrows are practically in my hairline.

"Only people I have a connection with." He shrugs like this isn't a big deal. Like this isn't changing my life.

"We have a connection?" I widen my eyes. Of all the things running through my head, that's the thing I say aloud?

He finally looks the tiniest bit affected as his cheeks get a slight red tint. "Um. I guess. I mean, we're friends, right?" He swallows, looking unsure. Which I shouldn't find as adorable as I do. I shouldn't find it adorable at all. Obviously there's something wrong with me if I find anything about this man adorable.

"We are so friends," I agree, bobbing my head up and down wildly. Oh, God. I can feel a surge of word vomit coming up. "Best friends, even. Except Scott is kind of my best friend, sorry. But I've known him forever. So you can beat him for the title, it's certainly possible, especially with how he has been acting, but you're going to have to work for it. But, I'm kind of your best friend, I guess. Right? Maybe not. I mean, I know you're kind of close-ish with Isaac. Actually, I don't know that. But I've seen you have a conversation with the guy, so maybe, quite possibly."

Derek has his amused eyebrows on, as he usually does when I ramble. I don't see how that can be amusing or entertaining to anybody- unless to make fun of me. It seems pretty damn annoying to me and I'm the one doing it. But, on Derek, it seemed almost fond.

"Right," he says simply, almost smirking, the ass. "Best friends forever."

"Shut up!" I roll my eyes, clutching the blanket closer to me. "You're the one who just snuck into my bedroom for the _third_ time. Wonder what my cop dad would have to say about that?"

He doesn't even have the decency to look slightly afraid. "You wouldn't," he states, collapsing onto desk chair.

"You don't know my life." I pout like a small child, trying my hardest to glare intimidatingly at him. "I might."

"No, you wouldn't."

"And why not?" I raise a challenging eyebrow at him.

"Because," he draws out, looking way too pleased with himself. "You're the one who called me here. When you didn't even know I could hear you."

I stay silent, almost giving in to the urge to spit on his stupid face.

"And you looked pretty happy to see me. When you were done screaming, of course." His face clearly says, _checkmate_.

"I kind of hate you," I say weakly, not being able to take all the sexual tension- am I reading too much into it or was Derek just flirting with me? Further research needed.

"I don't think you do." Is he getting closer to me? Shit, shit, shit, what is going on?

"I definitely do. No question about it, buddy. I have very, very strong negative feelings towards you. I despise you. I resent you. I loathe, detest, and abhor you. You are the darkness in my life." My voice is getting more and more strangled as he moves closer, my desk chair long forgotten. I wonder idly if he can hear my heartbeat. Then, I silently scoff. I'm pretty sure Canada can hear my heartbeat right now.

My eyes widen and my breath stops as Derek reaches my bed. "You hate me?" He asks quietly. I nod limply. "Everything about you says differently. Your scent, your expressions, your heartbeat." I will myself to calm down. I'm dreaming. I am so dreaming.

He is literally less than two feet away now. He opens his mouth to say something else and-

"Stiles! I hear voices. You better not still be up!" My dad calls up to me and we both freeze. Derek's eyes widen almost comically and his whole body tenses.

"Going to bed now, Dad!" I yell back, my gaze not leaving Derek. He closes his eyes, runs his hands through his hair and then turns back to me.

"I, uh, I gotta go. Laura will be worried and it's really late and, um, I just have to go." He backs away until he reaches my window and then stumbles out of it, not looking at me the whole way. "See you tomorrow."

I wave halfheartedly, swallowing the lump in my throat. Okay, okay, not a dream then. Because if it had been a dream, we would definitely be fucking like rabbits right now.

Not a dream.

That was _not_ a dream.

Derek Hale just came on to me- I think?- and it was not a dream.

What the actual fuck?

xXx

The next day is... awkward. I can't even bask in the glow of it being Friday because I'm so hung up over _what the hell just happened what is going on help I do not understand_?

I can tell it's going to be bad when he doesn't show up so we can walk and talk between classes.

In Chemistry class, Derek sort of looks at me like he wants to talk, but then just buries his head in his textbook. Feeling my stomach tighten, I quickly work to fill the silence with rambling.

He doesn't look at me at all after that.

At lunch, he sits next to Danny- who looks positively thrilled, the bastard- and listens to every little sound the Hawaiian makes. I kind of want to strangle both of them.

I'm stuck listening to Scott and Allison tell me _all_ about their anniversary plans as I try not laugh at Erica mock-gagging.

In Calc, he sits all the way on the other side of the room. I'm stuck next to Jackson. And he's sexting Lydia. I may or may not gag out of disgust/jealousy.

And at the end of the day, he doesn't even wait to walk to the parking lot with me.

So, I'm a just a little surprised when he's waiting for me in my room. Again.

"Is this becoming a thing?" I refrain from adding on, _The whole sneaking into my room to shamelessly flirt with me and then not talking to me thing_.

"Stiles," he sighs, sounding exasperated. Like he has a right to be irritated at me! I did absolutely nothing wrong.

"Derek," I mock, biting the inside of my cheek. "What?"

"I'm sorry," he mutters, his tan fingers worrying at a thread on his knee.

"For what?" I ask innocently, widening my eyes. He looks up with a glare.

"Stiles," he repeats, lower this time and _wow_, he shouldn't say my name like that when I'm mad at him. "For running out last night." He pauses. "And ignoring you today."

I drop my backpack on the floor and cross the room to my bed. "Apology accepted," I reply without meaning to because I'm actually the worst at being mad at people. Especially unfairly attractive people. "But can I ask you a question?"

He sighs like he knows exactly what I'm going to say but nods.

"What was up? Like, with you last night? Even before the whole taking off thing?" I cover my face with my pillow to avoid looking at him.

He roughly cards his hand through his hair, sighing once again. "I told you. The full moon is tomorrow. Everything is, er, heightened." He looks so damn uncomfortable that I take some pity on him.

"What was there to heighten?" Obviously, not enough pity. If Derek had looked uncomfortable before, he now looks like he is about to bolt.

He finally looks like he is about to answer and then the musical genius of Cobra Starship's 'Good Girls Go Bad' fills the air. I smile sheepishly at Derek, holding up a finger.

"Um. One second." I reach into my back pocket and pull out my phone, scowling at the flashing picture of a familiar smiling face.

"Erica? Hi," I greet, staring at Derek. _No running_, I mouth and he seems to get the idea. He doesn't really seem to like it though.

"Stiles!" The blonde squeals in my ear. "Long time, no talk. So, what was up with you and Tall, Dark and Broody today?"

I gulp, watching Derek look up suddenly, attention suddenly rapt. I try to choose my words carefully, knowing he can hear every word- of both sides of our conversation.

"Um, Erica, right now isn't really the best time to talk about this." I lick my lips nervously, watching the corners of Derek's lips flick up.

"What do you- oh. _Oh_. He's with you right now, isn't he? You little slut!" Her tinny voice cries. Derek's grin is now taking up half his face.

"Erica! Stop. It's not like that." It sounds weak even to me.

"Sure it isn't." I can feel her grin through the phone. "I don't care. You're gay; hooray! Lydia and I were taking bets on when you guys would get together, anyway. All that unresolved sexual tension. I'm just mad that you didn't tell me the details." She pauses for a moment. "And that you didn't wait a week. Now I'm down twenty bucks."

"There really aren't any details to share, okay?" I pause and think of the complications- the rather furry complications- of our relationship. "Okay, no important details."

She sighs loudly into the phone. "What_ever_."

"I gotta go now, okay? I'll talk to you later I guess." Derek winks at me and I pointedly ignore both it and the feelings it gives me.

"Have to get back to _Derek_?" she purrs into my ear, following with a giggle. "Okay, okay, bye. See you tomorrow, Stiles."

"Yeah, yeah, bye," I mutter, hanging up on her.

We stare at each other longer than we should before Derek quirks an eyebrow. "They're taking bets on when we'll get together?" He asks and I squeeze my eyes shut.

"Teenagers," I force a laugh out, swallowing harshly. "Such crazy kids."

Derek keeps looking at me, that stupid smile in place and I want to tell him to stop, to shut up, that he doesn't know anything about anything. But then he's talking again so I don't have the chance.

"Anyway, tomorrow is the full moon, so by Monday I should be fine. No more... Accidents." I cock an eyebrow and want to be offended, because _hello_, he just called our whatever-that-was as an accident, how am I not supposed to be offended? But I can't be, because he's still grinning a tiny bit and have I ever mentioned how pretty he looks when he is grinning?

We really should have had this conversation over the phone.

"Um. Okay, cool, I guess. Wouldn't want any more of that stuff, right? So inconvenient." He presses his lips together tightly, a slight furrow in his brow.

We look at each other again and I realize he never answered my precious question. _What was there to heighten_? I wonder if I should ask again.

"So," Derek says, looking terribly awkward. "Do you want me to go?" I'm a bit surprised he bothered to ask instead of just bolting, but pleasantly surprised.

"You don't have to if you don't want," I answer warily. "But you can."

"What do you usually do after school?" He asks, carefully perching on the corner of my bed.

"Play video games, eat junk, yell at my dad," I shrug. "But I have to start my homework tonight because Harris hates me and is all up my ass about everything."

"Harris hates everybody," Derek returns with a slight shrug of his own. "Don't take it personally."

"Trust me, I'm not. I've annoyed plenty of teachers in my day." A lazy grin curls around my face. "I'm gonna work on homework, you can, uh, I dunno, play Xbox or listen to the radio or listen to me talk or-"

"I'll just sit here." His eyes smile. "Actually, do you have any books?" I spring up and show him my bookcase like a game show lady, making _voilà_ hands.

"They're organized by genre. Science fiction, fantasy, horror, romance- which are Erica's, _not_ mine- and classics. I feel like you're a classics sort of guy, huh?"

Derek shoots me an amused look and crouches down, reaching out hesitantly as if to say '_May_ _I_?' I nod and his index finger dances along each shelf, each title, measuring each book for size. He pauses at the Stephen King area of the horror section, but eventually moves on. He finally stops at the classics, just as I had predicted.

Rather unexpectedly, he chooses Tarzan and settles back on my bed, toeing his shoes off and then kicking them up. I grin at the sight.

I usually listen to my iPod while I do my homework, but I don't this time in case Derek tries to talk to me. I consider just playing music out loud, seeing as I probably won't be able to get anything done in the unnerving sound of silence, but I remember the last time I did that and quickly dismiss the idea.

It turns out the soft sound of Derek turning the worn pages and him breathing is enough sound to fill the room with a calm atmosphere. I work furiously as to get the work done quickly so I can hang out with Derek, but I soon feel my hand start to cramp and my attention start to waver. I decide a tiny break would do me good.

I turn to ask Derek if he wants to go get a snack with me or something and find him curled up around one of my pillows, snoring gently. I snort quietly and sneak downstairs by myself, cradling my phone in one hand.

Once I'm in the kitchen, I stare down at the tiny screen for a moment and, like magic, it goes off loudly. I quickly answer as to not wake up Derek- which may seem ridiculous, seeing as I'm a little while away from him, but the whole house is almost silent and it feels like any little sound would echo.

"Hello?" I answer quietly, muffling my voice with a hand cupped around the phone.

"Stiles?" My dad asks loudly, like it would be anybody else. "I'm not going to be home as soon as I thought. I would have left a note if I had known. The guys and I are going out after we wrap up this case, so I just wanted to make sure you eat."

"Yeah, yeah, I already did. Vegetarian lasagna, you're really missing out," I prompt hopefully, hoping he'll tell me not to worry, that's what he'll be getting anyway. I'm met with a laugh.

"Just make sure it doesn't all go to waste. I don't know, bring it over to the neighbors or something." I don't bother mentioning that it is past seven and normal people have already eaten, because I am a perfect son.

"Actually, Dad, I have a friend over so we'll finish it off." I try to picture Derek eating vegetarian lasagna. "Or maybe order out."

"Scott?" My dad asks, like always, assuming Scott is my only friend. Which, okay, he kind of is. Or the only friend close enough to stay over and actually eat my monstrous masterpiece.

"No," I reply, just the teeniest bit icy. "Derek Hale, actually." Derek Hale who is upstairs in my bed. Asleep, yeah, but still. This is such an OMG moment, I'm surprised I'm not flailing into all the furniture.

Okay, I am flailing. But just a little bit.

"Derek Hale?" Dad asks suspiciously, somehow making him sound like a criminal. It's an unfortunate gift of his. "The same Derek Hale who you were with the other night?"

"No, Dad, there's a plethora of Derek Hale's in my school, and I'm slowly making my way around all of them." I roll my eyes and dig out a takeout menu. Hey, if my dad gets a day off from the disgusting food I usually stuff myself with for him, so do I.

"Okay, okay, jeez, you don't have to get sassy. He's new, right? Not causing any trouble, is he? Not roping you into anything bad?"

"Oh, my God, Dad, no. Can't I just have a normal friend? He's cool. We're lab partners and in a lot of the same classes and we decided to hang out, okay? That's it, he's not initiating me into his drug ring. _Because he doesn't have a drug ring, that's not what I meant_!" Nope, no drug rings, just killer werewolves. You know, no big deal. Normal teenage stuff.

I hear him sigh. "Okay, just looking out for you, son. I'll be home later, alright? I have to go." He waits a moment before adding on, "I love you, Stiles."

I swallow. "Love you, too, Dad. See you." I hang up the phone, slumping against the counter.

"Well, good thing that happened, I hadn't fulfilled my minimum of awkward conversations for the hour," I mutter to myself.

I hear an amused snort suddenly and I jump. "I don't know, I think we got that covered." I look up to see Derek leaning on the doorframe, rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes.

"Hey," I greet softly, scrambling up.

"Hey," he replies with a tiny grin. "Sorry I fell asleep."

"It's fine. Totally fine. My dad just called to say he won't be home until late, so do you wanna stay over for dinner? We don't have to eat the practically inedible stuff I make for my dad, we can order out?" I hate the hopeful lilt to my voice, but I can't help it. I still am feeling a little awkward about the whole _whatever_ that happened last night. I just need him to know that we're cool.

He shrugs. "Sure. What are you getting?" I swallow down the smile threatening to take over my face. _Cool it, Stiles. Friends do this all the time. Think of him as Scott. _

Which, ew. Never, _ever_, thinking of him as Scott.

"I guess a pizza. You like pizza, right? And I'll probably pop a DVD in. Unless you're one of those people who don't like watching TV while they eat. Then, hey, I totally respect that. What are dining rooms for, after all?" I watch Derek's face as he tries to keep up with me and my ever changing thoughts.

"I'm fine with watching a movie while we eat. I promise not to spill anything on your couch, don't worry." He smiles at me and I eagerly return it.

"Cool, cool. Um, sodas are in the fridge, you can grab whatever you want. I think I've done enough work for tonight, I deserve the rest of the night off, right? Yeah, okay, I'll go order, you go… whatever." I walk away, clutching the menu in one hand, the phone in the other. Only to come back a couple seconds later.

"Wow, so dumb, uh, what do you want on the pizza? I'm a Hawaiian guy myself, even though some say fruit on pizza is a sin. I'm guessing you're a meat lover." My cheeks redden as I realize how that could be taken.

"No, plain cheese is fine," Derek replies absently as he goes through the fridge, thankfully ignoring the innuendo. I run off to make the order.

When I come back, Derek is lounging on the couch, looking unfairly _familiar_. Like he's supposed to be here, supposed to be part of the house, part of my life. It makes my stomach tighten.

"Any movie preferences?" I ask, running my finger down the bookcase filled with DVDs. Derek shakes his head.

I grin to myself and pick out several before laying my picks on the coffee table in front of Derek. His eyes narrow as he lists them aloud.

"Underworld, Red Riding Hood, Twilight, An American Werewolf in London, Blood and Chocolate… _Stiles_."

"What?" I ask innocently, batting my eyelashes. I just barely hold in the grin.

"These are all werewolf movies," he growls.

"They are?" I gasp, widening my eyes. "Well, silly ole me." Derek's glare is getting darker and more intense and I finally let a giggle out.

"Come _on_, Derek. We can make fun of them all and you could tell me all the things wrong with each one. It's not every day that you can watch a werewolf movie with an actual werewolf."

"No," Derek grits out, staying true to himself. I sigh in defeat and gather them all up in my arms with a longing look.

"Party pooper. Then, what can we watch?" I raise an eyebrow at him and he stops to think.

"I don't care, really. Just no sci-fi or fantasy or _werewolves_." He exudes sass as he crosses his arms with a look on his face just daring me to argue.

I gape. "But, Derek, those are all the fun ones! What else is there to watch?" I think for a moment before gasping in a sudden burst of epiphany. I hold up a finger to Derek-only the index, not the finger I really _want_ to be holding up to him right now- and rush upstairs to my room.

I'm back down in less than a minute, panting. "I… found, uh… the perfect… movie for us… to watch." I wait a second for my heart rate to go down before popping the disc in my Blu-Ray player, and turning to smile angelically at the suddenly nervous looking teen.

"You didn't bring down porn, right?" He asks hesitantly and I shake my head wildly like that's a ridiculous notion that I would never do.

"Don't worry; you're going to love this." Suddenly though, I blanch. Derek had the luck to be the first one to sit down. Now, I had to decide how close I would sit next to him.

I hover over him for a second before he looks up at me with a strange look and I finally just take a deep breath and sit down. We're close enough that our thighs brush when I lean to get the remote and his socked foot meets mine on the floor. But far enough away that I-hopefully- didn't make anything awkward.

As the menu starts up, I hear Derek groan next to me. "Really, Stiles? _The Avengers_?" He says it like most people would say _bunions_.

I turn to him with a wide grin. "Oh, come on. I knew you were the type not to see this movie unless forced to, even though you secretly want to. And you cannot tell me that you are not The Hulk, okay? Turning into a giant hulking creature with no conscious when you're filled with rage? Sound familiar?"

Derek keeps his annoyed eyebrows on, even as his lips quirk. "And who are you then?"

I scoff. "I'm obviously Tony Stark. I mean, come on. When I'm older, I am definitely going to be rich and handsome and a genius and have bagged Gwyneth Paltrow." I shoot him a smug look as I press play.

"I may also have some Loki in me," I say thoughtfully. "I mean, except for the whole incestuous subtext, I guess." Derek looks at me like I'm an idiot and I quickly shut up.

As Loki is being all BAMF, the doorbell rings suddenly and I jump, startled. Derek doesn't even flinch, eyes glued to the screen of the movie he '_didn't want to watch_' and I sigh, knowing I'm going to have to get the pizza.

"Be right back," I mutter and force myself to get up and retrieve the food, paying the guy with a pretty cheap tip- hey, I've been paying for a lot of not!dates, okay?. When I come back with them, Derek is still paying rapt attention to the movie, not noticing I'm back until I slap him in the face with a slice of pizza.

By the time the battle scene comes, I'm more than half asleep already. Derek finally pulls himself away from the screen and glances at me before pulling me in with a chuckle. I barely even think about it as I rest my head on his tanned shoulder, more unconscious than conscious.

And why should I have to think about it? Friends cuddle (is this cuddling?) all the time. Right? _Right_?

I let go of all the unsure thoughts and just nuzzle myself deeper into the warm crook of his neck, breathing in the musky scent of pure Derek.

I don't think I've ever felt so comfortable, so safe. And I know if I has enough consciousness to actually think about it, that would really scare me.

* * *

**Disclaimer- Uggggh. I never know when to get two characters together. Like, I don't want to get them together super quickly, because then what do I do for the rest of the pic? But I don't have enough patience to even read slow burn fics, let alone write one. So, if someone wants to chip in and tell me what they think I should do, I definitely wouldn't mind. **

**Also, I don't think I can even say this is late, because haven't you guys come to realize my updates ****_always_**** take super long? So, sorry. Hope everyone had a great Christmas. My girlfriend got me a stuffed wolf named Sourwolf because she gets me and is the best girl on the planet. **

**One more issue is, someone on tumblr asked me when this takes place, date wise and I want to bring that up. This fic began in early September, at the beginning on the school year, so next chapter will probably be late October, maybe Halloween.**

**Thank you all for reading and I appreciate reviews to no end. Love you all.**


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